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A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and a shiny, red plastic shovel. In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox. The lad dug round the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With no little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy and the rock was huge.)

When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox, however, he found that he couldn’t roll it up and over the little wall. Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into the sandbox.

The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, shoved — but his only reward was to have the rock roll back, smashing his chubby fingers. Finally he burst into tears of frustration.

All this time the boy’s father watched from his living room window as the drama unfolded. At the moment the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and the sandbox. It was the boy’s father. Gently but firmly he said, “Son, why didn’t you use all the strength that you had available?”

Defeated, the boy sobbed back, “But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the strength that I had!”

“No, son,” corrected the father kindly. “You didn’t use all the strength you had. You didn’t ask me.”

With that the father reached down, picked up the rock, and removed it from the sandbox.

Do you have “rocks” in your life that need to be removed? Are you discovering that you don’t have what it takes to lift them? There is One who is always available to us and willing to give us the strength we need. When we are broken in spirit and our strength is spent, we can turn to our Savior, Jesus.

Novelist Vicki Baum once said, “You don’t get ulcers from what you eat.
You get them from what’s eating you.” And what’s eating us much of the
time is worry. It eats us from the inside out.

I wish I could always be like former baseball player Mickey Rivers. He
philosophized, “Ain’t no sense worrying about things you got control over,
because if you got control over them, ain’t no sense worrying. And there
ain’t no sense worrying about things you got no control over either,
because if you got no control over them, ain’t no sense worrying.”

Maybe that makes sense, I’m just not sure. But even if it does, I’ll
likely wind up worried anyway. Which is why I like this story related by
inspirational Dutch author and holocaust survivor Corrie ten Boom.

Corrie learned a powerful lesson as a little girl. Having encountered the
lifeless body of a baby, she realized that people she loved would someday
die, too. She thought about the fact that her father and mother and sister
Betsie could quite possibly pass on before she does. The thought frightened
and worried her.

One night her father came in to tuck her into bed. Corrie burst into tears
and sobbed, “I need you. You can’t die. You can’t!”

Her father sat on the edge of the narrow bed and spoke tenderly to his
daughter. “Corrie,” he said gently, “when you and I go to Amsterdam, when
do I give you your ticket?”

She sniffed a few times and considered the question. “Why, just before I
get on the train,” she answered.

“Exactly,” he continued. Then he gave her assurance that was to last a
lifetime. “When the time comes that some of us have to die, you will look
into your heart and find the strength you need – just in time.”

Some years later Corrie and her family, arrested for sheltering Jews and
members of the Dutch resistance, were sent to Nazi concentration camps.
She, indeed, experienced the deaths of her parents and sister, as well as
numerous friends. She endured hardships that she could never have imagined
as a young child. But the words of her father stayed with her and proved
to be true. “You will look into your heart and find the strength you need
- just in time.” She always did. Regardless of the suffering or hardship
she encountered, when she looked inside her heart she found the strength
she needed – just in time.

If you worry and fret, or if you feel anxious about your future, you may
find Corrie’s experience helpful. And if that thing you dread should ever
arrive, then you need only look inside your heart. The strength you need
can be found there – Just In Time.

By Steve Goodier

When the storms of life come, do they get you down or challenge you to rise up?  The way of Eagles in a storm challenges us to rise above our difficulties.

Eagles in the Storm

Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long before it breaks?  The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come.  When the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it. The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.

When the storms of life come upon us - and all of us will experience them - we can rise above them by setting our minds and our belief toward God.

The storms do not have to overcome us.  We can allow God’s power to lift us above them.  God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that bring sickness, tragedy, failure, and disappointment into our lives.  We can soar above the storm.  Remember, it is not the burdens of life that weigh us down, it is how we handle them.  The Bible says, “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on the wings like eagles.” Isaiah 40:31.

“WAIT”

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried,
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said, “Child, you must wait.”

“Wait?  You say, wait! ” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By Faith, I have asked, and I am claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and YOU tell me to “WAIT”?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.

And Lord, You promised that if we believe
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking!  I need a reply!

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
As my Master said once again, “Child, you must wait.”
So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting… for what?”

He seemed, then, to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine,
And he tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run.

All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want  -  But, you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of My love for each saint;
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.

You’d not learn to see through the clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there;
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence were all you could see.

You’d never experience that fullness of love
As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove;
You’d know that I give and I save… (for a start),
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

The glow of My comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight,
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you asked
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST.

You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that “My grace is sufficient for Thee.”
Yes, your dreams for your loved one overnight would come true,
But, Oh, the Loss! If I lost what I’m doing in you!

So, be silent, My Child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me.
And though oft may My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still, “WAIT.”

Russell Kelfer

When The Wind Blows

Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.  Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer.

“Are you a good farm hand?” the farmer asked him.

“Well, I can sleep when the wind blows,” answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him.  The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man’s work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand’s sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, “Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!” The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, “No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows.”

Enraged by the old man’s response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins.  The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors  were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, and he returned to bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life? The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he had secured the farm against the storm. We secure ourselves against the storms of life by accepting Jesus Christ as our Savior and by grounding ourselves firmly in the Word of God.

Freedom!

There is a tale about Abraham Lincoln before the Civil War. He happened upon a slave auction and noticed from the crowd the object of the next sale. A beautiful young black woman stood on the auctioneer’s stage. The bidding started and the men in the crowd began raising the price one after another as they appraised her with cruel stares. But with each bid Abraham Lincoln would raise it one dollar higher. As this continued the young slave girl eyed the tall awkward man with a look of suspicion and fear. Finally the last bid was made, and it fell to young Lincoln. Lincoln paid the auctioneer and the slave girl was brought to him. “Remove her chains”, he ordered her former captor. The girl rubbed her wrists and glared at her new master with uncertainty. “What ya’ goin’ ta’ do wit’ me now”, she asked. “Why, I’m going to sit you free miss”, he answered. “Free? What you mean, free?” “I mean you are a free person. You are no longer a slave.” Ya’ mean I can do whatever I want?” she exclaimed. Ya’ mean I can go anywhere I want?” Abraham Lincoln just smiled and nodded his head. “Then I want to be wit’ you!” she shouted. He looked down at her, puzzled. “You can go anywhere. Why would you want to follow me?” “Cause I wanna be wit’ the one who set me free.” When God set me free my greatest desire was and is to follow Him!

Interesting thoughts from James Denison

Beware the broken heart.  Today’s Wall Street Journal tells us about “broken-heart syndrome,” a malady which mimics heart attacks but is not connected to coronary artery disease.

In recent years, doctors have determined that acute emotional or physical trauma can cause a “concussion” of our hearts.  A surge of adrenaline overwhelms the heart, freezing much of the left ventricle and disrupting its ability to contract and pump blood.  The problem is formally known as stress-induced cardiomyopathy.  Most patients recover some or all of their heart function.

Some triggers are physical: migraine headache, knee surgery, low blood sugar, adverse drug reaction, and respiratory distress.  But most are emotional, such as the death of a spouse or losing a large amount of money in a casino.  One patient suffered an episode when she walked into a dark room and people jumped out to wish her a happy birthday.  Another felt overwhelmed by new computer software, a feeling most of us experience regularly.

Aside from avoiding surprise parties and new software, what are we to do when stress attacks us?

First, pray.  Eugene Peterson’s The Message captures Paul’s advice to stressed-out people: “Don’t fret or worry.  Instead of worrying, pray.  Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.  Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down.  It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life” (paraphrase of Philippians 4:6-7).

Second, trust your Father’s presence in your pain.  Claim these promises as yours: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all” (Psalm 34:18-19); “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you” (Isaiah 43:2); “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9); “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.  The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5-6).

Last, know that God redeems all he allows, using our pain for his glory and our good.  Consider George Matheson, a young man born to privilege and success.  At the University of Glasgow he graduated first in classics, logic, and philosophy.  His prospects for academic success were brilliant. Then, in his twentieth year of life, he became totally blind.

He followed God’s call to ministry anyway.  He pastored some of Scotland’s finest and largest churches, wrote books of philosophical theology which are still read and cited, was theologian to Queen Victoria, received numerous honorary doctorates, filled the most prestigious lectureships in the land, and was a fellow of the Royal Society.

Perhaps this prayer by Dr. Matheson could be yours this morning: “My God, I have never thanked thee for my thorn.  I have thanked thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorn.  Teach me the glory of my cross. Teach me the value of my thorn.  Show me that I have climbed to thee by the path of my pain.  Show me that my tears have made my rainbows.”

Amen?

A perfect story for Valentine’s Week by Beth Moore. 

TANGLED HAIR

Knoxville Airport – waiting to board the plane: I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing.  I’d had a marvelous morning with the Lord.  I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you.  You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.  Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego…

I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange sight.  Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.  His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones.  The strangest part of him was his hair and nails.  Stringy grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man.

I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I’d just had a Howard Hughes sighting.  Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead.  So this man in the airport… an impersonator maybe?  Was a camera on us somewhere?….

There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.  All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.  Let’s admit it.  Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.  I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.  I’ve learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.  And it may be embarrassing.

I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. “Oh no, God please no.”  I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, “Don’t make me witness to this man.  Not right here and now.  Please. ‘I’ll do anything.  Put me on the same plane, but don’t make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!”…

There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, “Please don’t make me witness to this man.  Not now.  I’ll do it on the plane.” Then I heard it…”I don’t want you to witness to him.   I want you to brush his hair.”

The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top.  Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?  No brainer.  I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, “God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I’m on this Lord. I’m you’re girl!  You’ve never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life.  What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him.  I am going to witness to this man.”

Again as clearly as I’ve ever heard an audible word,  God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. “That is not what I said, Beth. I don’t want you to witness to him.  I want you to go brush his hair.”  I looked up at God and quipped, “I don’t have a hirbrush.  It’s in my suitcase on the plane, How am I suppose to brush his hair without a hairbrush?”

God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God’s word: “I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works.” (2 Tim 3:7)  I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, “Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?”

He looked back at me and said, “What did you say?”   “May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?” To which he responded in volume ten, “Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you’re going to have to talk louder than that.  At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, “SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?”

At which point every eye in the place darted right at me.  I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.  Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, “If you really want to.”

Are you kidding?  Of course I didn’t want to.  But God didn’t seem interested in my personal preference right about then.  He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, “Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem.  I don’t have a hairbrush.”

“I have one in my bag,” he responded.  I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger’s old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man’s hair.  It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don’t do many things well, but I must admit I’ve had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.  Like I’d done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.

A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man’s hair. Everyone else in the room disappeared.  There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.  I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.  I know this sounds so strange but I’ve never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life.  I believe with all my heart, I – for that few minutes – felt a portion of the very love of God.  That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while.  The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God’s.

His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant’s.  I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him.  I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, “Sir, do you know my Jesus?”

He said, “Yes, I do.”   Well, that figures.

He explained, “I’ve known Him since I married my bride.”   “She wouldn’t marry me until I got to know the Savior.”  He said, “You see, the problem is, I haven’t seen my bride in months. I’ve had open-heart surgery, and she’s been too ill to come see me.  I was sitting here thinking to myself. What a mess I must be for my bride.”

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we’re completely unaware of the significance.  This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known.  It was a God moment, and I’ll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.  I was deeply ashamed of how I’d acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.

I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks.  She said, “That old man’s sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that?  What made you do that?” 

I said, “Do you know Jesus?   He can be the bossiest thing!”   And we got to share.  I learned something about God that day.  He knows if you’re exhausted because you’re hungry, you’re serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge.  He knows if you’re hurting or feeling rejected.  He knows if you’re sick or drowning under a wave of temptation.  Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual.  Tell Him your need!

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way… all because I didn’t want people to think I was strange.  God didn’t send me to that old man.  He sent that old man to me.

John 1:14 “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

By Beth Moore
From her book ”Further Still”
www.lproof.org/