tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70088069031761529892024-02-20T01:01:58.169-08:00All the things you thought before just faded into grey...Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.comBlogger230125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-53912673350222093252022-03-15T15:09:00.001-07:002022-03-15T15:09:38.935-07:00Kids and the "S" WordI think we've done an injustice for our children by being afraid to use Christian language. I find myself guilty of this sometimes. Instead of saying something is a sin I use words like "good" or "bad" because I think they will understand these simple concepts. These words are easily understood by very young children, even before they can articulate words back to us. However, the application of good or bad is not so easy to understand when something is multi-faceted, and sometimes that ends up making things more confusing.<div><div><br /></div><div>If, for example, an adult tells a child not to eat ice cream because it's bad for them, it would not likely stop a child from wanting to eat it. The ice cream might be a bright color (think bubble gum flavor blue ice cream) and be fun because it comes on a cone. Plus, they like the way it tastes. If it looks good, causes the child to have a good time, and it tastes good... how could it be bad? As adults we understand that adult probably really meant that the ice cream was unhealthy, not bad.</div><div><br /></div><div>As children grow and begin to face more difficult challenges than when to eat ice cream, the need for precise language increases all the more. If this does not happen, children will not be able to reconcile why the things they've been told are bad seem so good. However, if they have been taught a certain action is sinful - as opposed to bad - the question of how it feels is secondary to God's command.</div><div><br /></div><div>It also allows parents to have much more honest conversations with their kids: <i>Yes, sex is enjoyable, but God wants you to reserve that for only your spouse. Yes, you will make a few more dollars working every day of the week, but God wants you to rest your body and spend a day close to Him. Yes, lying is a sin even if it doesn't hurt anyone.</i></div></div><div><i><br /></i></div>It is our responsibility as adults to make sure our children understand God's law. We were instructed to us do so. In Deuteronomy 11:18-21 we are told to <b>"Remember [God's] words with your whole being. Write them down and tie them to your hands as a sign; tie them on your foreheads to remind you. <i>Teach them well to your children</i>, talking about them when you sit at home and walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on your doors and gates <i>so that both you and your children</i> will live a long time in the land the Lord promised your ancestors, as long as the skies are above the earth."</b> (NCV, emphasis added)<div><br /></div><div>What about you: Is it hard for you to talk about sin with your children? Other adults?</div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-30107407108552509162021-10-22T08:38:00.001-07:002021-10-22T08:38:04.014-07:00FMF: Still<b>Before they call I will answer;</b><div><b>while they are still speaking I will hear.</b></div><div><b>(Isaiah 65:24, NIV)<br /></b><br /><br />It’s been a while since I’ve been able to participate in a five minute Friday writing session. To be honest, I’ve been struggling with energy, depression, and the ability to set aside enough time to write for even five minutes each week. But when I saw the prompt for today and thought about it in context of the verse above, I knew I needed to write. More than that I knew I wanted to write because I wanted to proclaim to anyone who might read this that God answers prayer.<br /><br />It’s not a topic that I’ve often felt so strongly about. In fact, about two weeks ago I found myself confessing to a friend that even though I believe in prayer, my actions are such that it appears I don’t. Simply put, I don’t pray nearly as much as I want you.<br /><br />A few days ago, on a dark, cold Monday morning, I found myself struggling to get out of bed and get ready for my class. I finally did, however, I didn’t realize I was running about 20 minutes late. I got in the car immediately and began to drive as quickly as I could to my school. As I drove my prayers were more than just a request that God would get me there on time. I believed that God would get me there at just the right time. In fact, I believe I uttered those exact words: I trust that You will get me there at the right time.<br /><br />When I pulled up to class I was surprised to see everyone standing outside of our door. For reasons we did not yet know, the door would not open. The professor had called security to open it. When they were finally able to, we all discovered that maintenance had been doing work on the door and had removed the batteries from the keypad lock. Long before I even utter my prayers to God, He had set in motion events that would ensure I got to class at just the right time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div></b></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-77111213171134816632021-09-16T15:38:00.005-07:002021-09-16T16:32:47.750-07:00BecomingLast night I became my father. <br /><br />I found myself eating toast with jelly as a late night snack with the lights turned down while I watched <i>Star Trek: The Next Generation</i>. Tomorrow I may have a bowl of Cheerios with my coffee and become even more like him. Maybe I’ll even watch the news.<br /><br />Of course I have not actually become him, but my actions reveal his likeness. By living in close proximity, his way of doing things has become my way of doing things even without trying.<br /><br />It happens. We joke that people begin to look like their dogs. If you doubt me, just do a quick internet search and you’ll be entertained. Similarly, I’m sure you’ve known couples who have started to talk like their partner after being together a while. It’s why I came home from Canada saying, “eh?” Psychologists call this the Social Proximity Effect. Sadly, our mothers were right: if your friends jump off a cliff, you probably will too.<div><br /></div><div>Inluence is powerful. When we learn good traits, the results are amazing. When we learn bad traits, it can seem impossible to overcome. There is probably no place this is more true than in our faith. In scripture we read John's words stressing the importance of it:</div><div></div><blockquote><div>We know that we have come to know God if we obey his commands. Suppose someone says, “I know him.” But suppose this person does not do what God commands. Then this person is a liar and is not telling the truth. But if anyone obeys God’s word, then that person truly loves God. Here is how we know we belong to him. Those who claim to belong to him must live just as Jesus did. (1 John 2:3-6, NIRV)</div><div></div></blockquote><div>Scripture is clear that believers must live like Jesus did, but let's be honest, it's doesn't always seem like they do. It would be easy to dismiss this as a failure resulting from our human nature - and, yes, we are all going to fail from time to time, but that answer isn't sufficient for me.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><u>The Person is a New Believer</u></b></div><div>I believe in immediate salvation, but I also believe that we spend the rest of our lives becoming like Christ. We will always struggle with a sinful nature, though those struggles may change over the course of our life. Sometimes those rough-around-the-edges Christians are just spiritual babies. They are still drinking the milk of their faith (Read 1 Peter 2:1-2 <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+peter+2%3A1-2&version=NASB" target="_blank"><b>HERE</b></a>).</div><div><br /></div><div><b><u>The Person is Distracted</u></b></div><div>Distraction can occur in one of at least two ways. We don't spend enough time with Him or we spend too much time with others. In the first case, we aren't practicing spiritual disciplines: praying, reading the Bible, participating in a faith community. In the second case, those spiritual disciplines are being drowned out by the other voices in our life: unbelieving friends, the internet, or personal activities. Our faith is being choked out by life (Read Mark 4:1-20 <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=mark+4%3A1-20&version=NIV" target="_blank"><b>HERE</b>)</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><u>The Person is Unaware of the Impact of their Actions</u></b></div><div>This is a tough one for me. I strongly believe that our faith is meant to be lived out with other believers. In fact, I recently wrote about that idea in my Friday writing group (Read it <a href="https://amiewills.blogspot.com/2021/09/fmf-rescue.html" target="_blank"><b>HERE</b></a>). In practical application, this one is easier said than done. I have a friend who on more than one occaision has reminded me that sometimes the way I speak does not convey a friendly tone. Oof. It's always awkward for both of us. The first time I was told this, my immediate response was a defensive manner. As I calmed down I realized that he was right, and I have tried to change my actions accordingly. However, it's not always appropriate to confront someone. You must have a loving relationship with them and pure motives.</div><div><br /></div><div>These are a few of the things I've been thinking about, but I want to know from you: Why do you think Christians are sometime so unlike Christ? Leave me a comment and go be like Jesus!</div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-41728816180817001862021-09-10T14:12:00.002-07:002021-09-10T14:12:35.024-07:00FMF: Rescue<b>“There was no one to rescue them because they lived a long way from Sidon and had no relationship with anyone else…”<br />(Judges 18:28a)<br /></b><br /><br />I stumbled across this verse a few weeks ago. It is one of those little verses that one might be tempted to skim over, as I was at first. But the words lingered in my mind...<div><br /></div><div>No one to rescue them.</div><div><br /></div><div>No relationship with anyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>As much as my husband and I dream about our future retirement locations - that remote home in the middle of nowhere - there is one thing I always remind him: we need neighbors. He loves the idea of being so far from the next home that we might forget they exist. I am slightly more practical.<br /><br />As much as people annoy me, frustrate me, and perplex me, there is no denying that God has created us to live in relation with each other. It's like the Bible writer penned, "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another" (Proverbs 27:17)</div><div><br /></div><div>Yep, people are hard to deal with sometimes, just like we ourselves are hard to deal with.</div><div><br /></div><div>I recently had to write a children's lesson on Psalm 133 the same week I faced serious issues with an another believer. How could I teach about the blessing of living in unity when I was in a situation that I could only imagine being resolved by removing this other believer from my life? Yet it was that opportunity to reflect on God's word that gave me the same insight I share here today: We need each other.</div><div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div></b></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-17132150720820986372021-09-03T13:35:00.003-07:002021-09-03T13:35:38.058-07:00FMF: City<b> “Also tell this to the people of Jerusalem: ‘This is what the Lord says: I will let you choose to live or die. Anyone who stays in Jerusalem will die in war or from hunger or from a terrible disease. But anyone who goes out of Jerusalem and surrenders to the Babylonians who are attacking you will live. Anyone who leaves the city will save his life as if it were a prize won in war."</b><div><b>(Jeremiah 21:8-9, NCV)</b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Surrender! This was essentially the message given to the believers in Jerusalem from God. I'm sure it must have made little sense to them. Why would God want them to leave their city? This was the land that God had given to them. It was where they had raised their families, and where generations before them had also raised their families. It was where the temple was, and so it was where God was.</div><div><br /></div><div>But God told them to choose: stay and die or go and live.</div><div><br /></div><div>God sometimes presents us with options we don't like. They don't make sense and, sometimes, seem totally counterintuitive.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like those early believers, God is destroying old ways for new ways. The coming exile would help the believers refocus their beliefs. If you read the other prophetic writing from this time, you will learn that the believers weren't behaving the way they were supposed to. In fact, at one point, God tells them they are worse than their non-believing neighbors. Ouch!</div><div><br /></div><div>So what are the cities that God is asking me to abandon in my life? What things I have always done that somewhere along the line warped into something ungodly? I'm sure I can't fully investigate that in the five minutes I am spending here today, but I pray God always give me enough wisdome and faith to choose life.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-74917838719793492021-08-27T05:32:00.000-07:002021-08-27T05:32:11.451-07:00FMF: Desperate<b>“Do not hold against us the sins of past generations; may your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need. Help us, God our Savior, for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name’s sake.”<br />Psalm 79:8-9, NIV</b><div><br /></div><div>At some point we've probably all felt we were in desperate need. While that sentiment is subjective, it's pretty easy to agree with the psalmist if you read the entirety of Psalm 79. He and his people were in desperate need.</div><div><br /></div><div>But there is something that stands out to me about his cry for help. Not only does he ask God to "deliver him" as most of us would, he also asks God to forgive him. It's a beautiful moment of responsibility: <i>I'm sure I've done something wrong, God, but only you can make it right.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>The other thing I notice is that his cry for help is not for his own sake, not even for the sake of his people, but "for [God's] name's sake." It reminds me of Moses reasoning with God in the desert: <i>Everyone's going to think you brought us out here to kill us.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I don't know about you, but too often I ask God only for the things that benefit me. <i>Help me pay this bill so I can later spend money on something fun. Help me lose ten pounds so I can look really good when I go to that event. Help me do well on this project so I can seem important. </i>May I learn to look at things differently. May all things I do be done for the glory of God.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-8402846819290083652021-07-23T11:05:00.002-07:002021-07-23T14:16:16.714-07:00FMF: Order<b>For He will give His angels orders concerning you,</b><div><b>To protect you in all your ways.<br />(Psalm 91:11, NASB)</b><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There is a wonderful older woman in my church named Carol. Carol is very private. She is concervative and proper. She is full of love. She cares deeply about the people in her life. Often when I talk to her, she breaks into prayer as part of her normal conversation. God's love flows out of her like an artesian spring.</div><div><br /></div><div>Psalm 91 is key scripture in her life. She has told me on many occasions that she is praying it over my family. For our safety. For our well being. That the angels would protect us.</div><div><br /></div><div>And honestly, I just kind of smile and nod when she talks about angels.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was always more interested in Scripture like that which is in the later verses of Psalm 91, which talk about God saving me and being near me. When I was a teenager and it seemed like every Christian mother I knew was watching <i>Touched by an Angel</i>, my pastor once said he'd rather be touched by Jesus. That always resignated with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>But, the truth is, angels are a part of God's plan. I don't like writing about things I don't understand. Let me just say it here, I don't understand angels.</div><div><br /></div><div>Scripture proclaims that God has ordered His angels to protect me in all my ways. So, I trust in that promise. Whether I see them or understand them, I am thankful for them. God's ways are so much bigger than my ways.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-86521753056198702782021-07-10T21:24:00.003-07:002021-07-10T21:24:53.460-07:00Worse Things<div><b>Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, </b><b>where moths and vermin destroy, </b><b>and where thieves break in and steal. </b><b>But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, </b><b>where moths and vermin do not destroy, </b><b>and where thieves do not break in and steal. </b><b>For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. </b><b>(Matthew 6:19-21, NIV)</b></div><div><br /></div><div>I sit in the silence of a darkened dining room. Little houses leave few places to escape to. I can hear the crickets outside; they have started their nightly serenade. My husband is watching television too loudly in our room, but tonight it does not bother me. There is peace in my heart, and so there is peace in my home.</div><br /><div>This was not the scene last night when I fell exhausted into bed.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>About 1pm I was at the mall with my husband, returning something we had bought, when I noticed I had missed a call from my boss, the church pastor. It was Friday, my day off, but I had planned to work from home to make up for the day off I had taken Thursday. However, my husband and I needed a break from stifling humidity that has been plaguing us, and so we headed to the mall for our errand and a bite to eat.</div><div><br /></div><div>I returned the phone call quickly to discover that our church office had been broken into and "ransacked." The word was repeated at least a dozen times yesterday. There was no other way to describe it. Drawers opened. Paper everywhere. Items misplaced. Ransacked.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left the mall and headed to the church office, where we looked in surprise at the situation. The police were called as well as a locksmith, and shortly thereafter the members we had received now-stolen tithe checks from that week. The good news, the first we would discover, was there had only been two checks, and one was from my own family. We would also soon discover that although they stole our master key ring, they had not taken our back up key ring which had copies of almost all of them. The police arrived shortly, even sending their forensic unit to take fingerprints. And the first locksmith we called was able to come almost immediately to begin the arduos process of changing a lot of locks.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the whole situation was unsettling. Our pastor described the feeling of being "violated" because trinkets were stolen off his desk that, though of little monetary value, had high sentimental value. It reminded me of a similar experience we had last October. You can read about it here: <a href="https://amiewills.blogspot.com/2020/10/who-stole-my-kitkats-and-faith-in.html" target="_blank"><b>WHO STOLE MY KIT KATS AND FAITH IN HUMANITY?</b></a> We did the best we could to put the pieces together, and decided the rest could wait. We left frustrated and frazzled.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few hours later, after watching some television with my husband, I stumbled to my bed, so tired that I left my phone in the livingroom. I wanted nothing to tempt me to stay awake.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next morning I awoke to a string of missed texts. Just after I fell into my bed, our pastor's daughter had been in a dangerous situation while out with some friends. The Pastor had texted the leadership team to ask for prayers as he and his wife tried to find out what was happening. Of course, by the time I read the string of texts, the situation had been resolved for nearly 12 hours. But all the same, I sat there with tears in my eyes this morning, thinking of the far greater loss I would have felt if events had turned out differently. It put the entire previous day in perspective.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are worse things than stolen money.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are worse things than broken posessions.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are worse things than trespassed property.</div><div><br /></div><div>Far worse things, indeed.</div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-77402841850351457862021-07-09T08:28:00.000-07:002021-07-09T08:28:35.924-07:00FMF: Summer<b>Hands that don’t want to work make you poor.<br />But hands that work hard bring wealth to you.<br />A child who gathers crops in summer is wise.<br /> But a child who sleeps at harvest time brings shame.<br />(Proverbs 10:4-5, NIRV)</b><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"What do you plan to do this summer?" she asked me.<br /><br />"As little as possible," I told her with a laugh.<br /><br />And it was true. After a semester of working two part time jobs and taking a near-full load of classes, I needed a little time to rest and prepare for the fall. For many of us, not just students, Summer is the time we cherish most because we are able to do just that.<br /><br />However, in agriculutural societies, like the one in which the Biblical writer of Proverbs lived, summer was a time of work. You can only gather crops when the crops are ready. They don't wait for you to want to work, and so your schedule revolves around the harvest's schedule.<br /><br />There's a line from a hymn I sometimes find myself singing: <i>"Bringing in the sheaves, // Bringing in the sheaves, // We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves."</i><br /><br />(Sheaves, in case you do not know, are bundles of grain. I had to look it up too.)<br /><br />In my spiritual life, there are some things that can only happen at certain times. Perhaps I will never encounter another person or have the same opportunity to extend God's grace in a situation.<br /><br />As God's children, it is wise to work when the harvest is available.<br /><br />The only question that remains is will we rejoice as we bring in the sheaves?<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-39495336833470471682021-07-02T08:28:00.003-07:002021-07-02T08:28:36.234-07:00FMF: Deserve<b>“All my grandfather’s descendants deserved nothing but death from my lord the king, but you gave your servant a place among those who eat at your table. So what right do I have to make any more appeals to the king?”<br />(2 Samuel 19:28, NIV)</b><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Years after David had taken begun his rule over God's people, he thought back to his friend, Jonathan, whose father, Saul, was the king. Jonathan and Saul had both died in battle, and it appeared that their entire lineage was now dead too.</div><div><br /></div><div>One day David found himself thinking of his old friend, and he asked his servant if anyone was still alive in their family so that he could should them God's kindness (2 Samuel 9:3).</div><div><br /></div><div>This, in and of itself, is convicting to me. Too often, I limit my willingness to love people to when it is convenient for me. David, however, went searching for someone to love in the same way God had loved him. Eventually he found Mephibosheth.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mephibosheth had lost his ability to walk when a caretaker dropped him in the same siege that had killed Jonathan and Saul. When Mephibosheth was brought before David, he did not condemn him, but rather restore him. He gave him land, status, and most importantly, acceptance. We read that Mephibosheth ate at David's table forever.</div><div><br /></div><div>God wants to restore us as well. Like Mephibosheth, life has left us broken, but God wants to be kind to us. Allow yourself to be carried to God's table today.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-14547002186562483262021-06-27T07:00:00.001-07:002021-06-27T07:00:00.190-07:00Life Cycles and StagesA few weeks ago I returned late from a dinner to celebrate a friend's birthday. Apparently it was birthday night at the restaurant because, as we discovered over the course of the night, most of the tables on the patio were celebrating a birthday. As we were seated, the table closest to us commented that they were celebrating a birthday as well. At their table, Robin was turning 65; at our's, Ana was turning 40. As we each turned back to our respective tables, one of our new friends at the table next to us commented that she wished she was 40 again.<br /><br /><div><i>Really?</i> I thought. Hadn't our table just been talking about divorces, diseases, and problems with children - all a result of this moment in our lives. Yet, at 65 this woman wished she were 40 again?</div><div><br /></div><div>The evening passed and we had a pleasant evening. The meal was finished, the tab was paid, and as we made our way out of the restaurant, the scene changed. We saw a group of girls, maybe in their mid-twenties. My friends and I looked at each other, and there was an understanding: it would be easy to wish we were them again. Remember the thrill of wondering where life would take you? The energy to stay out late and get up the next morning unphased? The carefree moments when you could do what you wanted because you reported to no one else?</div><div><br /></div><div>And then almost as quickly: Remember not having enough money for rent? Being mistreated in a relationship? Desiring the respect your age made hard to earn?</div><div><br /></div>In writing about developing mature love, the apostle Paul wrote:<br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><b>"When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things." </b><b>(1 Corinthians 13:11, NASB)</b></blockquote>Similarly, we must learn to put former days behind us. Have you ever met someone who was desperately hanging on to their youth? It always makes me sad to think they are missing out on what is happening in their life because they are attempting to gain something they'll never have again.<div><br /></div><div>I hope that when I'm 65, I enjoy being 65. So, I must begin that practice now. I appreciate that I'm 39, at least for a few more days, because this is where God has me.<br /><div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>* * *</i></div><div><i>Dear Reader,</i></div><div><i>This post was written several weeks ago and fell between the cracks. I was reluctant to post it, having just written about slowing down as I approached 40. Two posts in a row about turning 40? I promise I am not obsessed, as I thought you may consider me. Instead, I choose to own it. I am almost 40, and these are things I'm thinking about these days. It is what it is. So I hope, friend, that you will bear with me as I learn to let go of being 30-something and embrace being 40-something.</i></div></div></div><div>-<i>Amie</i></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-69129308581957585822021-06-26T06:30:00.001-07:002021-06-26T06:30:00.200-07:00Slow, Still, Wait.A few years ago my family started taking vacations. Though we had been married almost fifteen years, it was not until that point in our relationship that we had the desire, finances, and ability to align our schedules to take a significant trip together. Since then, we've been all over the United States and twice to Canada. I love to see landmarks and experience once in a lifetime moments.<div><br /></div><div>We've also been working on capturing these moments with photos. I don't want to be that mom who takes pictures of everything their child does (you know that parent, right?), but I don't fully trust myself to remember it all. As I type these words, I look to the corner of my living room where many of these photos are hung. My mind goes back to those moments when...<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><i>My son lost his tooth at a baseball game.</i></div><div><i>My family got free ice cream.</i></div><div><i>My son ordered strange food at a restaurant.</i></div><div><i>We toured a battleship.</i></div><div><i>My husband and I ate at a restaurant with a fantastic view.</i></div><div><i>Dee Strange-Gordon picked my son out of the crowd to give a baseball.</i></div><div><i>Both times my sons pretended to be chased by a dinosaur.</i></div></blockquote><div><div><br /></div><div>As I approach forty (ten days, and counting), I find myself slowing down. Not slowing down as if my battery was running out of juice - though that's certainly happening more - but as if I don't want to run through life as fast. Perhaps that's what happens when you realize it's possible you have fewer years in front of you than behind you.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I mentioned to a friend this week my reluctance to turn forty. He reminded me that I may want to reconsider my stance; turning forty, after all, is better than the alternative. Point taken.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet even in my slowing, I find it hard to be patient. I remind myself that some things just take time. Patience is a work of the Spirit in me (read: <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Galatians%205%3A22-23&version=NASB" target="_blank">here</a>). When Jesus told His disciples to wait, they started asking Him what He had planned (read: <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=acts+1%3A4-8&version=NASB" target="_blank">here</a>). The disciples weren't the only ones to struggle, think Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Aaron, and all the Isreaelites in the desert for that fact.</div></div><br />Instead, I seek to live in patience. To worry less about what is happening around me, and to allow my paitence be a holy act of commitment to God. I will wait. I will be still. I will not be upset. I will not allow sin to win. As the psalmist wrote:<br /><br /><b>Be still and wait patiently for the Lord to act.<br /> Don’t be upset when other people succeed.<br /> Don’t be upset when they carry out their evil plans.<br />Turn away from anger and don’t give in to wrath.<br /> Don’t be upset, because that only leads to evil.</b><div><b>(Psalm 37:7-8, NIRV)</b></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-18548336756439947522021-06-25T07:50:00.002-07:002021-06-25T07:50:43.757-07:00FMF: Quiet<b>“If you keep quiet at this time, someone else will help and save the Jewish people, but you and your father’s family will all die. And who knows, you may have been chosen queen for just such a time as this.”</b><br /><b>(Esther 4:14, NCV)</b><br /><br /><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div>I sometimes forget God uses the unlikely to accomplish His will. What a great reminder because, honestly, most of the time I wouldn't choose me for my own team. But God sees people for their heart, and He places them in places that give them opportunity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Esther was raised by her uncle, and she was chosen for a nationwide search for a new queen after the previous queen had been killed by her husband. You see, the king was afraid that his wife would empower wives and create marital unrest, so he had her taken care of. Is it any wonder that that Esther's uncle, Mordecai, told her not to tell anyone in the royal palace that she was a God-follower (Esther 2:10).</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet time passed and the believers found themselves in a precarious situation, one that would mean the end to their people. Including Mordecai. Including Esther. And, so, it was Mordecai again who instructed Esther to speak up.</div></div><div><div><br /></div><div>In Eccesiastes 3 we are reminded that there is a time and a season for everything. Sometimes we speak. Sometimes we refrain. May God give us the wisdom to know when to do each, and like Esther, may many people be saved as a result.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-26337213912148508792021-06-18T06:06:00.002-07:002021-06-18T06:06:34.855-07:00FMF: Lift<b>When the cloud remained over the tabernacle a long time, the Israelites obeyed the Lord’s order and did not set out. Sometimes the cloud was over the tabernacle only a few days; at the Lord’s command they would encamp, and then at his command they would set out. Sometimes the cloud stayed only from evening till morning, and when it lifted in the morning, they set out. Whether by day or by night, whenever the cloud lifted, they set out. Whether the cloud stayed over the tabernacle for two days or a month or a year, the Israelites would remain in camp and not set out; but when it lifted, they would set out. At the Lord’s command they encamped, and at the Lord’s command they set out.</b><div><b>(Numbers 9:19-23a, NIV)</b></div><div><br /></div><div>In trying to follow God's will for my life, I have found that He has sometimes led me places I don't entirely love. I have remained at jobs for longer than I wanted because that was how God was providing for my family during those days. I have delayed from doing things I felt I should do because there was no way for it to happen, and then one day, God made a way. God's timing doesn't always make sense. Why did the Israelites camp some places only one night and camp other places for longer periods of time?</div><div><br /></div><div>Ultimately, it doesn't really matter why. It's not too different from young children who bombard their parents with "but whyyyyyyy?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Because.</div><div><br /></div><div>God's "because" doesn't give me the warm fuzzy feeling I want from my faith, but I don't recall reading about warm fuzzies in scripture.</div><div><br /></div><div>And in Numbers 9, we see the mysterious nature of God. The God who sometimes settles His Spirit and sometimes lifts it up. It is our job to keep watching. And to follow.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-45670823734517567842021-06-13T18:48:00.004-07:002021-06-13T19:00:27.880-07:00Camp Bound<b>But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.<br />(Romans 5:8, TLB)</b><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIf_dULN97-uIwIVwY94WdWK_q6Tl6V5HePH9ZjJufvm9fvONEtF0OSptveV6sBUMdtehZow2qt50rF3IvNs8GV9AWdsTRhC8i5lC7aYLHR_xhBRjUJVvQ-Upz9iiNYHinoe4rOr4XGc/s1512/IMG_8571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIf_dULN97-uIwIVwY94WdWK_q6Tl6V5HePH9ZjJufvm9fvONEtF0OSptveV6sBUMdtehZow2qt50rF3IvNs8GV9AWdsTRhC8i5lC7aYLHR_xhBRjUJVvQ-Upz9iiNYHinoe4rOr4XGc/s320/IMG_8571.JPG" /></a></div><b><br /></b><div>Today was a milestone day in our house: my oldest son moved out, sort of. We packed up his things and drove him to a campground about two hours away, where he will live and work for the next two and a half months. Of course all the normal parental emotions welled up inside me. There was some stress trying to make sure he had everything he would need ("How much underwear are you taking?") and that he knew all the important things he would need to know ("Do you know about tipping at restaurants?"). There was some nervousness as I wondered if he'd miss home or have a hard time making friends. And of course, I was excited for him thinking about how much fun he'd have and all the memories he'd make.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was also a sense of nostalgia as I remembered the multiple summers I spent at that very campground. It was on that property that I learned how to be away from home, how to make decisions for myself, and so many other things. I laughed, and made friends, and cried.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the most important experience I had at that campground was deciding to follow Christ. It's amazing to think my son will sit in the same ampitheatre where I first heard God call my name. It was there that I learned about God's great love for me, and I pray that my son has similar experiences.</div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-84849104623236657842021-06-11T10:05:00.002-07:002021-06-11T10:05:08.586-07:00FMF: Disagree<b>Stay away from foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they grow into quarrels. And a servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, a good teacher, and patient. The Lord’s servant must gently teach those who disagree. Then maybe God will let them change their minds so they can accept the truth. And they may wake up and escape from the trap of the devil, who catches them to do what he wants. (2 Timothy 2:23-26, NCV)</b><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm graduating college today. Well, as much as any one "graduates" in a school district that is still closed for the pandemic. One of the most important things I've learned over the past two years is to agree-to-disagree with others in my educational community. Sometimes I disagreed with classmates on trivial things. Did they matter? No, so it was easy to let it go while getting to know them. Other times, disagreements were more substantial. I'll never forget the professor who taught adamently against racism and in the same class said that "Mexicans like Impalas." Did I disagree with her blind hypocrisy? Absolutely. Was I ever going to change her? Never.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet, when it comes to matters of my faith community, the agree-to-disagree situation is more challenging. In Paul's letter to Timothy it's clear that he's not talking about trivial things; he's talking about important issues that believers were letting the devil use to "gain a foothold" in their spiritual walks, as Paul writes in Ephesians 4. Paul doesn't tell the leaders to argue with them until they realize the error of their ways. His instructions are to be gentle. To be kind. To be patient. To let the Holy Spirit do what the Holy Spirit does becuase only God would be able to let them see the truth.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-57060962971083010622021-06-04T08:11:00.001-07:002021-06-04T08:11:48.463-07:00FMF: Slow<b>Then Moses said to the Lord, “Please, Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither recently nor in time past, nor since You have spoken to Your servant; for I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.”<br /><br />But the Lord said to him, “Who has made the human mouth? Or who makes anyone unable to speak or deaf, or able to see or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now then go, and I Myself will be with your mouth, and instruct you in what you are to say.”</b><div><b>(Exodus 4:10-12, NASB)</b><br /><br /><br />I've often wondered what was wrong with Moses. Did he have a stutter? A stammer? A lisp? Coming from a family familiar with speech delays, it's been a quality of Moses that I've considered more than once.</div><div><br /></div><div>When my sister was about three, she saw a speech therapist. My family cherishes a cassette tape they have of her singing. What family wouldn't cherish a little child singing at that age? Did it matter that the sounds weren't exact? Absolutely not. It was endearing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I myself struggled with pronunciation when I was small. It wasn't yellow; it was <i>yeh-whoa</i>. It wasn't a cheeseburger; it was a <i>chee-buh-guh</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>And when I became a parent, I discovered that both of my sons needed help with language. When my oldest saw a speech therapist, she emphasized how much he spoke. That wasn't news to me! He still loves to talk. A lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>But with any of us - my sons, me, my sister, Moses - what was wrong with us?</div><div><br /></div><div>In a word: Nothing.</div><div><br /></div><div>For whatever reason, this was how God made us.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">* * *</span></div><br /><br /></div><div>For another speech therapy anecdote, you can read about my son's first session here: <a href="https://amiewills.blogspot.com/2011/09/ka-ka-king.html" target="_blank">Ka- Ka- King</a>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-30369841029798227492021-05-07T14:04:00.001-07:002021-05-07T14:04:38.157-07:00FMF: She<b>She speaks wise words and teaches others to be kind.<br />(Proverbs 31:26, NCV)</b><br /><br /><br /><i> She cleans the house with bleach each week</i><div><i>to take her back in time.<br />When things were simple and she swam</i></div><div><i>but hated the finish line.<br /><br />She likes the smell of cigarettes</i></div><div><i>but has never smoked a cig.<br />It reminds her of her auntie's smell<br />she remembers as a kid.<br /><br />She plants things in her garden</i></div><div><i>though she doubts that they will grow.</i></div><div><i>Because as a child a concrete yard</i></div><div><i>was all she had to know.</i></div><div><i><br />She'd still hide in a cowboy hat</i></div><div><i>if she thought that it could be</i></div><div><i>That she'd be invited.</i></div><div><i>She is trying. She is me.</i></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div></b>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-9975991895437704982021-04-19T11:16:00.000-07:002021-04-19T11:16:24.445-07:00IDK<div>I've been in a funk lately. I'm not sleeping well, so I am tired and struggling to accomplish what I need to do. That fatigue increased by the discouragement I feel from multiple challenging situations in my life. Why did that person treat me that way? Why didn't that thing happen? When will I hear back regarding this other situation? Why does that person keep doing that? Maybe you've asked yourself these kinds of questions also. As much as I hate to admit it, sometimes the only answer is "I don't know."</div><div><br /></div><div>In the book of Numbers, we read the account of the God's early believers trying to figure out what God wants from them. They approach their leader, Moses, with a pressing issue regarding who should be allowed to participate in the Passover meal. The believers' desire was to celebrate Passover, but they were unclean because they had recently been near a dead body (not because they had sinned).</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Moses then said to them, “Wait, and I will listen to what the Lord will command concerning you.”</b><div><b>(Numbers 9:8, NASB)</b></div><div><br /></div>There's something comforting in learning that sometimes even Moses didn't know what to do. I create these stories in my head that <i>really spiritual</i> people have all the answers, that they never struggle. However, scripture makes it clear that Moses never claimed to have all the answers. He only claimed to have access to the One who did. Moses was closer to God than any believer at that time, and yet He dare not speak on His behalf without consulting Him first.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were things that Moses didn't know, and there will be things that we don't know. The important part is that we turn to God, for He does.</div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-2606125861282011562021-03-27T17:33:00.001-07:002021-03-27T17:33:59.615-07:00Preparing for PassoverI have never celebrated a traditional Passover dinner. And that makes sense, primarily, because I am not Jewish. I have read about it in detail, and I have particiated in tasting events, but neither is the same as gathering in a family's house as they pray, eat, and remember a tradition that is thousands of years old.<br /><br />I must admit a good portion of the information I have read about Passover has been in preparing for Holy Week services. Christians who don't have at least a rudimentary understanding of Passover miss out on much of the symbolism of the Last Supper, Christ's crucifiction, and the modern celebration of both Communion and Easter.<br /><br />But long before I knew the term "cultural appropiation," I was sensitive to the idea that a Christian observing their own pseudo-Passover meal might be offensive to a Jewish person. That left a person like me - who earnestly wants to understand and experience the tradition - in a predicament.<br /><br />This year that longing to participate has been stronger than ever, and I have been considering how to balance these conflicting desires for months. I woke up this morning dispirited, thinking I had missed Passover. Then I realized it was not yesterday; today is Passover. I knew in that moment I would like to honor the day, even if I could not fully participate. I looked up a few recipes, and I headed to the grocery store. As I shopped, these words echoed in my head:<div><div><b></b></div></div><blockquote><div><div><b>Eat the meat while your coat is tucked into your belt. Put your sandals on your feet. Take your walking stick in your hand. Eat the food quickly. It is the Lord’s Passover. That same night I will pass through Egypt. I will strike down all those born first among the people and animals. And I will judge all the gods of Egypt. I am the Lord. The blood on your houses will be a sign for you. When I see the blood, I will pass over you. No deadly plague will touch you when I strike Egypt.<br />(Exodus 12:11-13, NIRV)</b></div></div><div></div></blockquote><div>There is an urgency to Passover, reminding me of my urgent need of salvation. My best efforts are "woefully insufficient," as I recently read. God is my only source of freedom. So though I won't be painting my doorway with lamb's blood tonight, I will be baking some unleavened bread. </div><div><br /></div><div>I might even tuck my shirt into my belt. But if my husband asks, I'm just going to just say it's a French tuck.</div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-4428355469194334982021-03-18T19:49:00.001-07:002021-03-18T19:49:06.394-07:00The People We Pray Quietly ForWhen I was a teenager, I loved attending Sunday night church. Sunday morning church services had a certain feeling. To me, there was a formality, a reverence to the gathering time. Sunday evenings, on the other hand, were more casual. I could wear jeans and a sweater. The format varied from week to week, and sometimes we had extended periods of prayer. As I think about it, I'm pretty confident that every week the pastor would call for people to share their prayer requests.<br /><br />Figuratively, and sometimes literally, there were prayer requests shouted out. My neighbor is dying. My child is straying. I'm facing unemployment. My back is acting up. Sometimes there was another kind of prayer request. This other kind was different. For any number of reasons a person would not share the details of his or her prayer request. A person would just say: Unspoken.<br /><br />I always struggled with unspoken prayer requests. Of course my teenage self wanted to know what gossip-worthy thing was happening in the person's life. Not that I intended to gossip. I just wanted to know. My adult self knows better. My adult self now understands.<br /><br />The unspoken prayers were the ones that were most personal to you.<br /><br />The unspoken prayers were the ones you didn't want to utter because it would make them true.<br /><br />The unspoken prayers were the ones you couldn't even whisper.<br /><br />But I thank God He knows our innermost thoughts. He is the God who hears our prayers when the words come out as unintelligible screams and when they can't be whispered, when they come out unspoken. Yes, He is the God of the whisper.<div><br /></div><div><b>Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart</b></div><div><b>and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.<br />After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. <br />After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.<br />And after the fire came a gentle whisper.<br />(1 Kings 19:11-12, NIV)</b><br /></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-84893007750827265152021-03-12T09:36:00.001-08:002021-03-12T09:36:07.994-08:00FMF: Possible<b>"But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”<br /><br />“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”<br /><br />Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”</b><div><b>(Mark 9:22b-24, NIV)<br /><br /><br /></b></div><div>The man presented his sick child to the disciples, and at first his case seemed futile. Even the disciples could not call out the spirit that caused the child to convulse, sometimes even fall in the fire. Enter Jesus. The situation was admittedly tense. First, He rebukes His disciples, calling them an "unbelieving generation." Ouch. But, then, oh blessed moment, He calls for the child to be brought to Him.</div><div><br /></div><div>The father cries out to Jesus. He wants Jesus to take pity on His son if there's any way to heal him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus confirms, "If?" Jesus clarifies: Jesus can't just do <i>anything</i>. He can do <i>everything</i>. It's a matter of the father's faith.</div><div><br /></div><div>The word faith in the original language is used both sacredly (God given faith) and secularly (convincing oneself). Linguists look to the context to understand what kind of faith is intended?</div><div><br /></div><div>I am certainly no linguist, but it seems like the father addresses both of these faiths. His cry to Jesus is this: I have done everything in my power to believe, so help me to believe with the faith that only God can give.</div><div><br /></div><div>If that is what is required, than perhaps I should pray less to be fixed and pray more to be faithed.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div></b></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-58831080457853119682021-03-05T06:00:00.002-08:002021-03-05T08:38:28.249-08:00FMF: Green<b>But the person who trusts in the Lord will be blessed.<br />The Lord will show him that he can be trusted.<br />He will be strong, like a tree planted near water<br />that sends its roots by a stream.<br />It is not afraid when the days are hot;<br />its leaves are always green.<br />It does not worry in a year when no rain comes;<br />it always produces fruit.<br />(Jeremiah 17:7-8, NCV)</b><div><br /></div><div>Let me tell you about the Green thing I love most: my friend who bears the color as her name. Mrs Green has been a friend of mine since the days when we were both still a Miss. Over the years, we've had some hot days and dry years. I must admit there have been days we've cried to God for the rain.<br /><div class="separator"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Classwork and studies...</div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD-BDUbr6GqT74TU88SenLGSKZhoX9fNUJ88iqAcD14HHtaflKTkft0lUpkYubAi5xAGWJzWBopYX8_9UVV6KZbH1h4SrZREADGb7cnmZr3Fytti5OUKxqv_t1CcnOIn0djnn-NVpd64/s2048/Green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2047" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD-BDUbr6GqT74TU88SenLGSKZhoX9fNUJ88iqAcD14HHtaflKTkft0lUpkYubAi5xAGWJzWBopYX8_9UVV6KZbH1h4SrZREADGb7cnmZr3Fytti5OUKxqv_t1CcnOIn0djnn-NVpd64/s320/Green.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to get D's in Chemistry.<br />But we had each other.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>Broken hearts from boyfriends...</div><div><br /></div><div>Pregnancy challenges...</div><div><br /></div><div>Marrital struggles...</div><div><br /></div><div>Childrearing challenges...</div><div><br /></div><div>It never really stops; it only changes. So we comfort each other when the days are hot. She's the kind of friend who texts just to make sure I'm ok when I don't respond to a text in the appropriate amount of time. <i>Just checking in to make sure you're ok.</i> And she sends a funny meme with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because of our mutual faith in the Lord we have been blessed, and our roots are secure. The seasons come and go, but we do not shrivel. God allows us to grow and flourish in Him. We have learned to trust in God more deeply becuase we have seen His work in the other's life.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>* * *</b></div></b></div><div><br /></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-22900678437476607382021-02-21T13:40:00.002-08:002021-02-21T13:48:38.144-08:00House of the Lord<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-y2NT2FaMUkUMXlTGsF-F4PbBZgNC-IT6LxO6xBTKBU5mDCA-rvoU55F3pcTI9fDixwaE41uRWomjA35L1adkjMwU5CgBS-P7yMHAPM174KyE0nZuh8GnlhyO0ZivjJewzFdGfsuhpm4/s640/IMG_8144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-y2NT2FaMUkUMXlTGsF-F4PbBZgNC-IT6LxO6xBTKBU5mDCA-rvoU55F3pcTI9fDixwaE41uRWomjA35L1adkjMwU5CgBS-P7yMHAPM174KyE0nZuh8GnlhyO0ZivjJewzFdGfsuhpm4/s320/IMG_8144.JPG" /></a></div>I was glad when they said to me,</span></b><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Let’s go to the house of the Lord.”</span></b><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Our feet are standing</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Within your gates, Jerusalem.</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">(Psalm 122:1-2, NASB)</span></b></div><div><br />There is nothing intrinsically special about our church buildings. It is not the tabernacle or the temple where the literal presence of the Lord resided for so many years. Today the Spirit of the Lord resides in His believers. <br /><br />It is not the place where we make sacrifices to atone for our sins and mistakes, where bulls and doves allow us to express our sorrow for behaving in a way that is not pleasing to God. Today we make the sacrifice of a contrite heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>It’s not even the place we truly worship God. Jesus Himself taught that the day was coming when we would worship Him in spirit and truth. Today, like so many days that have already passed, is that day.<br /><br />Yet there is something special about returning inside the church. I felt it last year, too, when we initially resumed meeting outside after quarantine.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>No social distance can replace the warmth of being with those you love.</div><div>No masks can cover the smile in a person's eyes.</div><div>No lack of corporate singing can stop the song in one's heart.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Every time I have ever travelled, there is this special moment when I walk back into my home. Whether being away for a couple days or a couple weeks, there is nothing like placing your feet on familiar soil. For the psalmist, that land was Jerusalem. For me, today, it was the sanctuary at my church.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Where I first learned to study scripture.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where I was baptized.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where I first served God amongst other believers.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where I married my husband.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where I've testified to God's grace over and over in my life.</div><br />So I will pray for my church, my homeland, my Jerusalem. When the words falter, I will echo the words of the psalmist, that peace and prosperity be a part of our lives, not for our own sake but for the sake of our brothers and friends and for the sake of the house of the Lord.<br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Pray for the peace of Jerusalem:<br />“May they prosper who love you.<br />May peace be within your walls,<br />And prosperity within your palaces.”<br />For the sake of my brothers and my friends,<br />I will now say, “May peace be within you.”<br />For the sake of the house of the Lord our God,<br />I will seek your good.</span></b><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">(Psalm 122:6-9, NASB)</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008806903176152989.post-8920482698458998622021-02-17T16:11:00.000-08:002021-02-17T16:11:22.059-08:00Wacky Wednesday<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>It all began</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>with that shoe on the wall.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A shoe on the wall...?</b></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Shouldn't be there at all!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">(<i>Wacky Wednesday</i>, Dr. Seuss)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>If you've read any of the other posts I've made here, you'll know that I don't often begin with a quote from something other than Scripture. Again and again throughout my life, I've felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to commit myself to God. In writing, that means my words are most always focused on His.</div><div><br /></div><div>But we're coming off a wacky year, and I'm in a wacky mood. And it just felt like a <i>Wacky Wednesday</i> kind of day.<br /><br />Wacky because I've started a new part time job, in addition to my existing part time job, working as a tutor. Yesterday was my first shift. I sat in my virtual classroom for two hours... all... by... myself. Though I knew that was a very likely possibility, it was not the vision I had created in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wacky because I spent most of today attending to details for this weekend, our church's first service inside our sanctuary in almost a year. Forty nine Sundays held outside or at home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wacky because I almost forgot it's Ash Wednesday. And even though my church does not traditionally celebrate Lent, we do usually have a special time together on Ash Wednesday. You can read my previous reflections on Ash Wednesday here: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><b>Rough Cloth and Ashes</b></a> or <a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><b>Rainbow Offerings</b></a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>You might say that my lenten experience is begining with a shoe on the wall.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><u><span style="font-size: medium;">To Sacrifice or Not To Sacrifice?</span></u></div><div>Lent is always a little wacky for me. Our denominational tradition does not encourage the lenten focus, but I know a growing number of believers who find the experience beneficial to their faith. But when your church body doesn't practice the act collectively it becomes a bit of a spiritual landmine. Mention your fast to the wrong person and you'll get a lecture about how we are not Catholic and God does does not demand a sacrifice from us.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always want to remind them that God never really wanted sacrifice; He wanted obedience. Even in the era when animals were regularly being offered to God, it wasn't God's primary desire. I want to open my Bible to 1 Samuel 15:22 and help them recall that the prophet said <b>"to obey is better than to sacrifice." </b>Saul, the King, would be dethroned for making sacrifices to God that He did not ask for. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, but there are sacrifices that God desires:</div><blockquote style="font-weight: bold;">For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;<br />You do not take pleasure in burnt offering.<br />The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;<br />A broken and a contrite heart, God, You will not despise.<br />(Psalm 51:16-17, NASB)</blockquote>God does not want a burnt offering. He wants our hearts. If a lenten sacrifice bring us back to Him, we should do it.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><u><span style="font-size: medium;">The Pattern of Fast and Feast</span></u></div><div>We love to celebrate the Christian feasts, Christmas and Easter. We love the excitement and the tradition. The joy. But I'm not sure these days mean as much without also engaging in the fasts. The dark days. The reflection and preparation. The sorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Many years ago, my husband and I went camping with a friend. We decided to explore some of the caves where we were staying. As excited as I was, I was also nervous about getting lost in our adventure. The farther we went into the cave, the smaller the light got until eventually it was the smallest it could be without disappearing. Our friend encouraged us to go farther, into total darkness. We compromised by making one single turn, stepping out of the light by only a few steps. That may have been one of the scariest moments of my life. We stood there a few moments until we were ready to leave, and I will never forget the joyous moment when I could see the light once again. For me, Lent is very much like that experience. It is a time remembering the darkness so that I can better celebrate the light.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Lent 2021</span></u></div><div>So here I am, still feeling wacky, but now a little retrospective too, wondering what Jesus would tell me if he were sitting at the desk across from mine.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know. I really don't. But I can spend the next 40-ish days trying to figure it out.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><i>Hey, God.</i></div><div><i>It's me.</i></div><div><i>How's it going?</i></div><div><i>Anything I need to pay attention to?</i></div><div><i>I'll be right here if You want to let me know...</i></div></div>Amie Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13797174496740150871noreply@blogger.com0