There's a new disease these days. Well, I've only begun to hear about it recently. It may have been around for years for all I know. The older I get, the less important these things become. Anyway, there's a lot of talk these days about getting your swagger on.
Now why would I consider that a disease, you ask? Simple. If you're good, you don't have to brag about it. To me, bragging about your accomplishments is a huge sign of insecurity-the exact opposite of what people are trying to convey.
I admire quiet people. People who go about getting the job done without tooting their own horn. Today's rant got started because, out of curiosity, I applied to an organization known as World Wide Branding. They called me today to interview me to see if I qualify. Apparently I do, which surprises me. I told her I feel like a kindergartner trying to graduate from Harvard.
Do you remember the scene in Legally Blond where all the students are gathered around, telling of their accomplishments and how they looked at Elle Woods whose accomplishments were nothing compared with theirs. The difference between Ms. Woods and me is that she was oblivious. Leading her sorority in a change of toilet paper could hardly be compared with what some of the others had done. It made for a funny scene in the movie, but in real life, I don't ever want to overdo my own accomplishments. And I don't see myself as putting myself down. I just want to be realistic about what I've accomplished and to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant," when I enter eternity.
I recognize I have to get my name out there if I ever want to sell books, which is the purpose of writing them. It's too rich for my blood to consider it a hobby. I prefer to simply state what the book's about and if someone is interested, well and good. If not, hopefully someone else will be.
I did make the mistake of not putting any biographical material on the cover. Therefore, if anyone knows me and would be interested in buying, they don't know what I've done. For those who don't know me, it's a big risk to buy a book written by unknown.
Therefore, I'm hoping the exposure I need will come from experts who've taken my biographical information and spread the word for me. I'll tell stories about my life and people I've met all day long, but when it comes to stepping into the spotlight-well, I'd rather not.
Getting my swagger on is something I have no intention of doing. How about you?
Friday, March 27, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
The Lion's share
This morning's bible study gave me good reason to think. I Peter 5:8-0 was quoted. It says, "Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are are of this world."
Then the question was asked what other ways the lion is a symbol for sin and the devil. My answer was that a lion, by nature, is sneaky. They're also lazy. By their very nature, they're designed to slip up quietly on their prey in order to avoid excess work to bring food to their table. They're also bullies, attacking the weakest and the youngest, or the one who strays too far away from the safety of their own group. Their roar is designed to strike fear in the hearts of those they hunt. They hunt in prides. If one doesn't bring something down, another will. However, they're also smart enough to leave alone those animals that are stronger and make hunting a wasted effort. Finally, they don't attack animals that fight back in a way that would cost the pride a member or two. Scientists talk of lions "balancing nature" by devouring the weak, the young, and the strays. I see the similarities spiritually in that an awareness of the enemy seeking to devour me is God's way of showing me the need to draw close to Him for perfection.
What do you think?
Then the question was asked what other ways the lion is a symbol for sin and the devil. My answer was that a lion, by nature, is sneaky. They're also lazy. By their very nature, they're designed to slip up quietly on their prey in order to avoid excess work to bring food to their table. They're also bullies, attacking the weakest and the youngest, or the one who strays too far away from the safety of their own group. Their roar is designed to strike fear in the hearts of those they hunt. They hunt in prides. If one doesn't bring something down, another will. However, they're also smart enough to leave alone those animals that are stronger and make hunting a wasted effort. Finally, they don't attack animals that fight back in a way that would cost the pride a member or two. Scientists talk of lions "balancing nature" by devouring the weak, the young, and the strays. I see the similarities spiritually in that an awareness of the enemy seeking to devour me is God's way of showing me the need to draw close to Him for perfection.
What do you think?
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Pillar of faith
Today was the 50th anniversary of the founding of Shiloh Youth Ranch. Each year, the pastor tells of events that show the grace and mercy God has and continues to extend to Shiloh. We've had the privilege to witness many of those miracles first hand. One of the things the pastor mentions is the need to develop our own memorials or pillars of faith. They're times when God worked miraculously on our behalf that we can remember when times are tough As he spoke today, I was reminded of a pillar of faith in my life that showed God's mercy and grace to Bob and me.
The company he worked for had not done well by him. Two days after we purchased a house in Tennessee, Bob accidentally saw a memo stating the company was closing the account. They deliberately tried to hide the fact he was out of a job. We were up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle. I doubt I have to say how I felt about the way the company treated him. How they ended up is another story that says don't mess with God's children, but that's not what this is about.
The company transferred him to Chicago, which in and of itself, was a great act of grace and mercy that went unrecognized at the time. The boys were both gone from the home. Our nest was empty. Bob began to encourage me to think about returning to school to complete my degree. Years before, I had been interviewed for a job at Ft. Leonard Wood, Mo. as Christian Education Director in the chapel system. However, I had been involved in a church plant that had just begun and had to turn the job down. Had they approached me the year before when I was a member of a Baptist church that had hundreds of members, I would never have been missed. But a church plant, especially this one, needed all the warm bodies it had managed to accumulate in a few short months. Since I was the one who contacted the denominational headquarters about planting a church, it would have been really nasty to abandon a work I requested be started.
The interview for the job included 17 chaplains-and me. Scary thought for an enlisted man's wife; alone in a room with 17 officers. By the way, there were no female chaplains in that day, at least not in that room. Worked hard to mind my P's and Q's. After the interview, one chaplain followed me to the car. His advice started with, "Mrs. Nettles, you were at the top of our list. Now, you go back to school and finish your degree." It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
There were more moves between that interesting day and the rest of the story. The opportunity to return to school presented itself when Bob was transferred to Chicago. I told him there were a couple of good schools in the area. Wheaton was one and Moody was the other. Wheaton turned me down. because I was too old. They don't take anyone over 26 for the undergraduate program. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Bob's job was still quite difficult and if Wheaton had accepted me, I'd have had to start over because my credits were 25 years old. He did good to put up with the punishing behavior he endured for the 2 1/2 years it took for me to graduate. Isn't it amazing how God works? He took Wheaton's illegal insult and turned it into a blessing for us.
We were out for a drive one Sunday afternoon shortly after we arrived in the area and accidentally happened on Moody. Bob laughed for blocks. Moody sits in the heart of one of the country's largest and busiest cities. Near Northside it's called, just a few blocks from the Loop and even closer to Miracle Mile. Driving in new places was overwhelming for me, especially coming from a country setting. In Tennessee, we were 10 miles from anything. "You watch my dust," I growled and immediately began the process to enroll at Moody Bible Institute.
In the meantime, the house in Tennessee that we had purchased 2 days before Bob's job ended just sat there. It sat empty for 18 long, agonizing months. The broker even suggested putting an ad in a Chicago paper to see if we'd get any interest. There was one response. That was from the other Chicago paper, saying we'd have gotten better results going with them instead of the paper we chose. Oh, goody.
Every year, Moody participates in World Day of Prayer. At that prayer meeting in General Epistles class, I requested prayer for the sale of the house. It was a horrible financial drain and almost as big an emotional burden.
I'll never forget the young man who prayed for the sale of the house. In those days, mortgages took a minimum of two months to be processed. As this young man prayed, he requested that the house sell within a month. I laughed to myself and thought, You Dear, Sweet Boy. It takes two months to get a mortgage. We didn't even have any prospects the day he prayed.
Oh, how weak my faith. Shortly thereafter, we got a call from the Realtor. We had a buyer. It was a retired Detroit police officer who was putting about 75% down on the house. No bank would turn that down. Long story short-we closed in less than a month!!
The company he worked for had not done well by him. Two days after we purchased a house in Tennessee, Bob accidentally saw a memo stating the company was closing the account. They deliberately tried to hide the fact he was out of a job. We were up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle. I doubt I have to say how I felt about the way the company treated him. How they ended up is another story that says don't mess with God's children, but that's not what this is about.
The company transferred him to Chicago, which in and of itself, was a great act of grace and mercy that went unrecognized at the time. The boys were both gone from the home. Our nest was empty. Bob began to encourage me to think about returning to school to complete my degree. Years before, I had been interviewed for a job at Ft. Leonard Wood, Mo. as Christian Education Director in the chapel system. However, I had been involved in a church plant that had just begun and had to turn the job down. Had they approached me the year before when I was a member of a Baptist church that had hundreds of members, I would never have been missed. But a church plant, especially this one, needed all the warm bodies it had managed to accumulate in a few short months. Since I was the one who contacted the denominational headquarters about planting a church, it would have been really nasty to abandon a work I requested be started.
The interview for the job included 17 chaplains-and me. Scary thought for an enlisted man's wife; alone in a room with 17 officers. By the way, there were no female chaplains in that day, at least not in that room. Worked hard to mind my P's and Q's. After the interview, one chaplain followed me to the car. His advice started with, "Mrs. Nettles, you were at the top of our list. Now, you go back to school and finish your degree." It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
There were more moves between that interesting day and the rest of the story. The opportunity to return to school presented itself when Bob was transferred to Chicago. I told him there were a couple of good schools in the area. Wheaton was one and Moody was the other. Wheaton turned me down. because I was too old. They don't take anyone over 26 for the undergraduate program. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Bob's job was still quite difficult and if Wheaton had accepted me, I'd have had to start over because my credits were 25 years old. He did good to put up with the punishing behavior he endured for the 2 1/2 years it took for me to graduate. Isn't it amazing how God works? He took Wheaton's illegal insult and turned it into a blessing for us.
We were out for a drive one Sunday afternoon shortly after we arrived in the area and accidentally happened on Moody. Bob laughed for blocks. Moody sits in the heart of one of the country's largest and busiest cities. Near Northside it's called, just a few blocks from the Loop and even closer to Miracle Mile. Driving in new places was overwhelming for me, especially coming from a country setting. In Tennessee, we were 10 miles from anything. "You watch my dust," I growled and immediately began the process to enroll at Moody Bible Institute.
In the meantime, the house in Tennessee that we had purchased 2 days before Bob's job ended just sat there. It sat empty for 18 long, agonizing months. The broker even suggested putting an ad in a Chicago paper to see if we'd get any interest. There was one response. That was from the other Chicago paper, saying we'd have gotten better results going with them instead of the paper we chose. Oh, goody.
Every year, Moody participates in World Day of Prayer. At that prayer meeting in General Epistles class, I requested prayer for the sale of the house. It was a horrible financial drain and almost as big an emotional burden.
I'll never forget the young man who prayed for the sale of the house. In those days, mortgages took a minimum of two months to be processed. As this young man prayed, he requested that the house sell within a month. I laughed to myself and thought, You Dear, Sweet Boy. It takes two months to get a mortgage. We didn't even have any prospects the day he prayed.
Oh, how weak my faith. Shortly thereafter, we got a call from the Realtor. We had a buyer. It was a retired Detroit police officer who was putting about 75% down on the house. No bank would turn that down. Long story short-we closed in less than a month!!
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Fingernails
Who knew fingernails can play such an important role? I figured it out because, right now, mine are a mess. An ugly mess, a painful mess, and perhaps even a dangerous mess. Let me explain.
On Christmas Eve, my darling daughter-in-law decided to pamper me with my first manicure and pedicure. Have to say I loved it. Bob loved it as much as I did. However, I have always had very weak nails that split, crack, or tear. Besides that, I have an affliction of hang nails, which I cannot leave alone. Nail polish remover weakens the nails still more, so I haven't even tried for years. Polish, for some reason will not stick to my nails. One trip to the sink to wash dishes and it rolls off. If it's anything I hate, it's chipped nail polish. I even mentioned why in my second book, Prompted by Love.
But, the nails looked so good and it felt so good, I thought I'd try to continue. If I went only once a month, perhaps it wouldn't be so damaging. And, if I picked the polish off, I wouldn't have to soak in the stuff my nails don't like.
The second trip to the manicurist was no problem, either. Since I only had one hang nail in a whole month, I was sure I was finally on the right track to having pan free hands. 3 1/2 weeks later, I made another appointment. She liked to have never gotten the polish off, meaning extra soaking. The tips of my fingers have looked red and "pruny" ever since. Told you the stuff was damaging. I'm well hydrated and go through lots of hand lotion, so it was the acetate, acetone, whatever.
But the big problem came five days after my third manicure when my thumb nail split. It wasn't just the polish that lifted off the nail, but layers of nail went with it. Knowing my fingers were still aggravated by the remover, I decided it would be better to simply pick the polish off all the nails. As much as I hate chipped polish, I wasn't about to have one bare nail and the polished. Besides, if it happened to one nail, the others were bound to follow. Might as well get it all off under my own control rather than have it accidentally ripped off when I bumped something.
Picking the polish off has it's dangers, too. Every single nail lost layers about 1/4 inch below the quick. The nails also cracked. They're so paper thing and rough, they catch on anything-even cloth, and rip. Naturally, that means below the quick and bleeding. To avoid that, I keep them clipped them as short as I can, filed as carefully as I can, buff them frequently, and daily apply an oil the manicurist gave me. The tips of the nails are so red and angry looking. They don't feel very good, either.
Just try to pick up a piece of paper, a staple, a pencil, or anything without fingernails. It's not just a matter of ugly. It's also a matter of importance. Try focusing on anything besides your nails when they're so liable to rip. Bump the end of your already hurting fingers against something. You'll get my drift.
My point to this endless drivel? God knew what He was doing when He created us. Even down to the silly little things on the ends of our fingers. Who knew?
On Christmas Eve, my darling daughter-in-law decided to pamper me with my first manicure and pedicure. Have to say I loved it. Bob loved it as much as I did. However, I have always had very weak nails that split, crack, or tear. Besides that, I have an affliction of hang nails, which I cannot leave alone. Nail polish remover weakens the nails still more, so I haven't even tried for years. Polish, for some reason will not stick to my nails. One trip to the sink to wash dishes and it rolls off. If it's anything I hate, it's chipped nail polish. I even mentioned why in my second book, Prompted by Love.
But, the nails looked so good and it felt so good, I thought I'd try to continue. If I went only once a month, perhaps it wouldn't be so damaging. And, if I picked the polish off, I wouldn't have to soak in the stuff my nails don't like.
The second trip to the manicurist was no problem, either. Since I only had one hang nail in a whole month, I was sure I was finally on the right track to having pan free hands. 3 1/2 weeks later, I made another appointment. She liked to have never gotten the polish off, meaning extra soaking. The tips of my fingers have looked red and "pruny" ever since. Told you the stuff was damaging. I'm well hydrated and go through lots of hand lotion, so it was the acetate, acetone, whatever.
But the big problem came five days after my third manicure when my thumb nail split. It wasn't just the polish that lifted off the nail, but layers of nail went with it. Knowing my fingers were still aggravated by the remover, I decided it would be better to simply pick the polish off all the nails. As much as I hate chipped polish, I wasn't about to have one bare nail and the polished. Besides, if it happened to one nail, the others were bound to follow. Might as well get it all off under my own control rather than have it accidentally ripped off when I bumped something.
Picking the polish off has it's dangers, too. Every single nail lost layers about 1/4 inch below the quick. The nails also cracked. They're so paper thing and rough, they catch on anything-even cloth, and rip. Naturally, that means below the quick and bleeding. To avoid that, I keep them clipped them as short as I can, filed as carefully as I can, buff them frequently, and daily apply an oil the manicurist gave me. The tips of the nails are so red and angry looking. They don't feel very good, either.
Just try to pick up a piece of paper, a staple, a pencil, or anything without fingernails. It's not just a matter of ugly. It's also a matter of importance. Try focusing on anything besides your nails when they're so liable to rip. Bump the end of your already hurting fingers against something. You'll get my drift.
My point to this endless drivel? God knew what He was doing when He created us. Even down to the silly little things on the ends of our fingers. Who knew?
Friday, March 13, 2015
What part of no???
Never pray for patience. Never, never, never! Yesterday morning as I was praying, I was asking the Lord for grace, mercy, love, wisdom, discernment, and strength, but the word "patience" kept popping into my mind. Finally, "I said, OK, Lord, I know I'll regret it, but I'll pray for patience."
One of my jobs at the school is to teach the boys how to write in cursive. The public schools have taken it out of their curriculum, but even before that, they didn't teach it. Just mentioned it. I'm proud to say Shiloh insists they learn and I'm proud to be a part of that. It teaches discipline. We all need that.
Tommy is our newest boy. He's only been there 2 or 3 weeks. He's a good boy, a very polite boy. However, it was obvious he had no interest in learning cursive. He especially had trouble doing his "f's." Most of the boys do. I'd show him how, even covered his hand in mine, but still he'd insist that bottom loop go in the wrong direction.
I'd say, "No." He'd try again. I'd say, "No." He'd try again. I'd say, "No." To say the least, my patience was severely tried. "F" wasn't the only letter, but it was the toughest. Every time he had to do one, I could see the tension build in him and he'd get it wrong-again. OK, Lord, my patience was tested. I survived, but went home feeling like I'd been in a war.
Last night in church, a neighbor woman who is in her 80's said she was NEVER made to learn cursive! Astonishing! She can sign her name in cursive, but that's all. I was shocked. In her day, teachers forced children to learn to write with their right hand even if they were left-handed, so why would they allow one child to not bother to learn to write in cursive. Strange, to say the least.
When I was in school, we spent an hour a day on cursive for several grades-3rd through 6th, I think. Regardless, in those days, no child was allowed to be independent, but she's a good 10 years older and got away with it.
After a grueling hour and 1/2, I said to Tommy, "You're not really interested in learning cursive, are you?" Understatement to say the least.
"I hate cursive," he said with an impish grin. "I hate printing. I hate computers." That last one surprised me. When I asked him what he liked to do with his hands, he said "Build things," with a note of pride and sunshine on his face for the first time since he came to my desk. I told him if he wanted to be a builder, he'd have to learn to read blueprints and write reports, so it was essential he learn to write in cursive so others could read it. He reluctantly nodded and returned to class.
One of my jobs at the school is to teach the boys how to write in cursive. The public schools have taken it out of their curriculum, but even before that, they didn't teach it. Just mentioned it. I'm proud to say Shiloh insists they learn and I'm proud to be a part of that. It teaches discipline. We all need that.
Tommy is our newest boy. He's only been there 2 or 3 weeks. He's a good boy, a very polite boy. However, it was obvious he had no interest in learning cursive. He especially had trouble doing his "f's." Most of the boys do. I'd show him how, even covered his hand in mine, but still he'd insist that bottom loop go in the wrong direction.
I'd say, "No." He'd try again. I'd say, "No." He'd try again. I'd say, "No." To say the least, my patience was severely tried. "F" wasn't the only letter, but it was the toughest. Every time he had to do one, I could see the tension build in him and he'd get it wrong-again. OK, Lord, my patience was tested. I survived, but went home feeling like I'd been in a war.
Last night in church, a neighbor woman who is in her 80's said she was NEVER made to learn cursive! Astonishing! She can sign her name in cursive, but that's all. I was shocked. In her day, teachers forced children to learn to write with their right hand even if they were left-handed, so why would they allow one child to not bother to learn to write in cursive. Strange, to say the least.
When I was in school, we spent an hour a day on cursive for several grades-3rd through 6th, I think. Regardless, in those days, no child was allowed to be independent, but she's a good 10 years older and got away with it.
After a grueling hour and 1/2, I said to Tommy, "You're not really interested in learning cursive, are you?" Understatement to say the least.
"I hate cursive," he said with an impish grin. "I hate printing. I hate computers." That last one surprised me. When I asked him what he liked to do with his hands, he said "Build things," with a note of pride and sunshine on his face for the first time since he came to my desk. I told him if he wanted to be a builder, he'd have to learn to read blueprints and write reports, so it was essential he learn to write in cursive so others could read it. He reluctantly nodded and returned to class.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
What can I say?
This morning's Bible study jolted me. Galations 5:19-21 says: "the acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of GOD."
Very powerful words that I have often glossed over. I can't think of anyone who's avoided one or more of those acts of the sinful nature at some point in their lives. That makes me wonder who then can be saved? And does inheriting the kingdom of God mean the kingdom while we're here on earth or in heaven? I'm sure there are proponents of both interpretations.
However, Revelation 21:8 says, "But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars-their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death." This verse leaves no doubt it's talking about the kingdom in heaven, rather than just missing the abundant life on earth that Jesus promised in John 10.
The list in Galations is longer and some of the list is different than the one in Revelation 21. The sexually immoral are mentioned in both, as are idolators. It troubles me that so much of both is going on in the church. That's why I wrote the book-to try to show the sexually immoral God's way is best. But, something kept nagging at me.
It's well established that gluttony is a form of idolatry. Seeking comfort in food, means food has become more important than the Lord in my life. How can I tell people God's way is best if I'm not following it either? That's not to say I haven't sought release from something that has kept me in bondage since I was 13 years old. And, it's not to say I doubt my salvation. It means I've never stopped trying to find the abundant life in Christ that He promised, but until now have been going at it the wrong way.
Now, I believe I've found it. The Bible study I spoke of has finally shown me the problem. Instead of trying to please the Lord by dieting, I need to please the Lord by seeking Him. Until I was willing to give up the food and seek Him for comfort, for pleasure, I was bound to fail. Whether I lose weight or not has become secondary or maybe even third, fourth or fifth in what's important.
In Jesus Calling, Sarah Young says, "Save your best striving for seeking My Face. I am constantly communicating with you. To find Me and hear My voice, you must seek Me above all else. Anything that you desire more than Me becomes an idol."
Isaiah 55:2 says, "Why spend your money on that which is not bread, and your labor on that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good and delight yourselves in rich food."
In Jesus Today, Page 144, Sarah Young writes, "When you are going through very tough times and there is no relief in sight, you usually start looking for a way out. These escapist longings stem from self-pity and a sense of entitlement: You think you deserve better..." She then quotes Revelation 21:8 and I see that as the place where cowardice comes in. Eating to escape painful circumstances rather that trusting the One Who promises to go with me "through the valley of the shadow of death" is cowardly.
"Search me, O god, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." In the 1970's there was a very popular saying: "Be patient. God's not finished with me, yet."
Keep going. The change is fantastic. Galations 5:22, 23 says, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Against such things there is no law." To realize the enormous change He makes in our lives may have been the biggest jolt. To think of what He puts in place of all that trash in verses 19-21 is so worth believing in Him and seeking His face. Chocolate and pizza can't begin to hold a candle to what He has for us. Thank You, Lord, for Your patience with me.
Very powerful words that I have often glossed over. I can't think of anyone who's avoided one or more of those acts of the sinful nature at some point in their lives. That makes me wonder who then can be saved? And does inheriting the kingdom of God mean the kingdom while we're here on earth or in heaven? I'm sure there are proponents of both interpretations.
However, Revelation 21:8 says, "But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars-their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death." This verse leaves no doubt it's talking about the kingdom in heaven, rather than just missing the abundant life on earth that Jesus promised in John 10.
The list in Galations is longer and some of the list is different than the one in Revelation 21. The sexually immoral are mentioned in both, as are idolators. It troubles me that so much of both is going on in the church. That's why I wrote the book-to try to show the sexually immoral God's way is best. But, something kept nagging at me.
It's well established that gluttony is a form of idolatry. Seeking comfort in food, means food has become more important than the Lord in my life. How can I tell people God's way is best if I'm not following it either? That's not to say I haven't sought release from something that has kept me in bondage since I was 13 years old. And, it's not to say I doubt my salvation. It means I've never stopped trying to find the abundant life in Christ that He promised, but until now have been going at it the wrong way.
Now, I believe I've found it. The Bible study I spoke of has finally shown me the problem. Instead of trying to please the Lord by dieting, I need to please the Lord by seeking Him. Until I was willing to give up the food and seek Him for comfort, for pleasure, I was bound to fail. Whether I lose weight or not has become secondary or maybe even third, fourth or fifth in what's important.
In Jesus Calling, Sarah Young says, "Save your best striving for seeking My Face. I am constantly communicating with you. To find Me and hear My voice, you must seek Me above all else. Anything that you desire more than Me becomes an idol."
Isaiah 55:2 says, "Why spend your money on that which is not bread, and your labor on that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good and delight yourselves in rich food."
In Jesus Today, Page 144, Sarah Young writes, "When you are going through very tough times and there is no relief in sight, you usually start looking for a way out. These escapist longings stem from self-pity and a sense of entitlement: You think you deserve better..." She then quotes Revelation 21:8 and I see that as the place where cowardice comes in. Eating to escape painful circumstances rather that trusting the One Who promises to go with me "through the valley of the shadow of death" is cowardly.
"Search me, O god, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." In the 1970's there was a very popular saying: "Be patient. God's not finished with me, yet."
Keep going. The change is fantastic. Galations 5:22, 23 says, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Against such things there is no law." To realize the enormous change He makes in our lives may have been the biggest jolt. To think of what He puts in place of all that trash in verses 19-21 is so worth believing in Him and seeking His face. Chocolate and pizza can't begin to hold a candle to what He has for us. Thank You, Lord, for Your patience with me.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Florida snowstorm
I like hard copies of everything. I found out how much today. It all began last night when Bob asked me if my second book was ready to go to the publishers. The answer is yes, it's ready for the first steps. I make hard copies and give them to friends to see if they like it before I approach the publisher. If my avid reader friends don't like it, I'm sure I'll never convince a publisher to look at it and I'm too old to waste that kind of effort. I bought 2 binders today to put the hard copies in. While running off the copies, I checked to see if I had another binder so I could read from paper instead of the computer screen. I seem to see my mistakes better that way.
In the hutch over my desk were copies of my first book. I had no idea there were so many, Probably about 2000 pages that needed shredding from a 300 page book! That's just plain crazy. My printer chugged away and I punched holes in the paper in order to put the 175 pages in binders. Made 3 copies. It was surprising that the printer did so well. Previous attempts to print 75-80 Christmas letters was more successful if I printed 25-30 at a time. Otherwise, the printer would balk. This time the printer behaved and I had 3 copies printed, punched, and bound in less than 30 minutes.
Then I looked at the 8 inch stack of paper on the floor beside the shredders (yes, dueling shredders) and went, "Ugh!" Thinking it wouldn't take but a few minutes, I plunged in. Two hours later, I still have a stack about an inch and 1/2 thick! Meanwhile the trusty shredder that is larger, older, and in delicate condition from years of use and abuse, has been grinding away. Twice, it's stopped because it was overheating. Each bag needs to be compacted, meaning, I have to unplug the machine, clean out the blades and shove the shredded paper further down into the basket. Otherwise, the blades get plugged.
That's where the snowstorm comes in. I have bits and pieces all over the office. Then, the little shredder, the newer one I bought to replace Old Faithful, stopped. Jammed. It's on strike. Bob is trying to fix it as I write. Therefore, there's now pieces of paper scattered all over the kitchen, too. Bless his heart! He did it. I just heard it start up.
So, back to the grind. Literally. After that, it's time to vacuum up the flying pieces of paper before they scatter all over the house. Hope I have time to exercise and fix supper before I collapse. And, how was your day?
In the hutch over my desk were copies of my first book. I had no idea there were so many, Probably about 2000 pages that needed shredding from a 300 page book! That's just plain crazy. My printer chugged away and I punched holes in the paper in order to put the 175 pages in binders. Made 3 copies. It was surprising that the printer did so well. Previous attempts to print 75-80 Christmas letters was more successful if I printed 25-30 at a time. Otherwise, the printer would balk. This time the printer behaved and I had 3 copies printed, punched, and bound in less than 30 minutes.
Then I looked at the 8 inch stack of paper on the floor beside the shredders (yes, dueling shredders) and went, "Ugh!" Thinking it wouldn't take but a few minutes, I plunged in. Two hours later, I still have a stack about an inch and 1/2 thick! Meanwhile the trusty shredder that is larger, older, and in delicate condition from years of use and abuse, has been grinding away. Twice, it's stopped because it was overheating. Each bag needs to be compacted, meaning, I have to unplug the machine, clean out the blades and shove the shredded paper further down into the basket. Otherwise, the blades get plugged.
That's where the snowstorm comes in. I have bits and pieces all over the office. Then, the little shredder, the newer one I bought to replace Old Faithful, stopped. Jammed. It's on strike. Bob is trying to fix it as I write. Therefore, there's now pieces of paper scattered all over the kitchen, too. Bless his heart! He did it. I just heard it start up.
So, back to the grind. Literally. After that, it's time to vacuum up the flying pieces of paper before they scatter all over the house. Hope I have time to exercise and fix supper before I collapse. And, how was your day?
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Stop the nonsense, Pilgrim
This morning, I read a quote from Pilgrim's Progress and marveled at how applicable it is to my life today.
"The trials that those men do meet withal,
That are obedient to the heavenly call
Are manifold and suited to the flesh.
And come, and come, and come again afresh:
That now, or sometimes else,
We by them may be taken, overcome, and cast away.
Oh, let the pilgrim,
Let the pilgrim then be vigilant,
And quit themselves like men."
Wow! Our lives are full of trials, tribulations, and temptations every day, aren't they? Mine come in two areas especially. My weight and financial difficulties. I've come to realize they're related. Because I indulge in food I don't need, the same mindset traps me into buying things I don't really need. Until now, no matter how hard I've tried, the evil of gluttony has "come, and come, and come again afresh." I've been successful on several occasions in overcoming it. But, then, "now, or sometimes else," I've been "taken, overcome, and cast away." As long as my body is bloated, the enemy doesn't have to come after me repeatedly. He has me right where he wants me. But, there's hope. There's always hope. One of the weapons the Lord provides against the enemy. Lord, let this "pilgrim be vigilant and quit myself" like the child of God I am.
Recently, I began a Bible study in an effort to again lose the weight that comes between the Lord and me. Along the way, I've been learning that there are several ways the enemy comes at me repeatedly. They're the triggers he uses to successfully fire at this target. I've mentioned several of those triggers for my gluttony in a joking way. Fatigue and stress is mentioned in a ploy for sympathy. But, we're all fatigued and stressed and others don't use it as an excuse for gluttony, so why should I expect sympathy? then I mention social occasions, mealtimes, illness, among others I no longer remember, and end it with the old Philadelphia Cream Cheese ad, "sofa care month, Baltic pride week. Then I ad my own, "hang nail day." The truth is, it's not funny. Not funny at all. Humor about obesity is smoke screen, a cover up for the embarrassment I have for not being able to control this aspect of my life. If I joke about it before others make fun of me, it takes away the sting of their comments. It gives me the false feeling of them laughing with me instead of at me, but I'm only kidding myself.
The relevance of the words John Bunyan penned hundreds of years ago struck me this morning. Those words bolstered my resolve to finally end this roller coaster ride called obesity. Frankly, I'm sick of it. Sicker than a novice on a roller coaster puking his terror over the side of the car.
"The trials that those men do meet withal,
That are obedient to the heavenly call
Are manifold and suited to the flesh.
And come, and come, and come again afresh:
That now, or sometimes else,
We by them may be taken, overcome, and cast away.
Oh, let the pilgrim,
Let the pilgrim then be vigilant,
And quit themselves like men."
Wow! Our lives are full of trials, tribulations, and temptations every day, aren't they? Mine come in two areas especially. My weight and financial difficulties. I've come to realize they're related. Because I indulge in food I don't need, the same mindset traps me into buying things I don't really need. Until now, no matter how hard I've tried, the evil of gluttony has "come, and come, and come again afresh." I've been successful on several occasions in overcoming it. But, then, "now, or sometimes else," I've been "taken, overcome, and cast away." As long as my body is bloated, the enemy doesn't have to come after me repeatedly. He has me right where he wants me. But, there's hope. There's always hope. One of the weapons the Lord provides against the enemy. Lord, let this "pilgrim be vigilant and quit myself" like the child of God I am.
Recently, I began a Bible study in an effort to again lose the weight that comes between the Lord and me. Along the way, I've been learning that there are several ways the enemy comes at me repeatedly. They're the triggers he uses to successfully fire at this target. I've mentioned several of those triggers for my gluttony in a joking way. Fatigue and stress is mentioned in a ploy for sympathy. But, we're all fatigued and stressed and others don't use it as an excuse for gluttony, so why should I expect sympathy? then I mention social occasions, mealtimes, illness, among others I no longer remember, and end it with the old Philadelphia Cream Cheese ad, "sofa care month, Baltic pride week. Then I ad my own, "hang nail day." The truth is, it's not funny. Not funny at all. Humor about obesity is smoke screen, a cover up for the embarrassment I have for not being able to control this aspect of my life. If I joke about it before others make fun of me, it takes away the sting of their comments. It gives me the false feeling of them laughing with me instead of at me, but I'm only kidding myself.
The relevance of the words John Bunyan penned hundreds of years ago struck me this morning. Those words bolstered my resolve to finally end this roller coaster ride called obesity. Frankly, I'm sick of it. Sicker than a novice on a roller coaster puking his terror over the side of the car.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
I Deserve Hell
I just finished reading Janis Richardson's blog. It is so powerful, I'm humbled to the point I wonder what's the use trying to write on my own blog?
Regardless, I'm compelled to blog on in my own fashion because I've been so blessed by the Bible study I've been concentrating on for the past 2 1/2 weeks. In the study, Charles Spurgeon is quoted. For the two or three of you who may be reading and don't know who he was, Charles Spurgeon was a preacher in London. His sermons were so incredible, it required a ticket to get into his services. Imagine. If you didn't have a ticket, you couldn't go to church! If only it were like that today. It was also his church that brought about enactment of the law that prohibits shouting "Fire!" in a crowded building. Someone did in his church and the resulting panicked stampede cost 6 people their lives.
But, I digress. As I said, he's quoted in the Bible study. Something he was quoted as saying struck me powerfully and I want to document it-as much to imprint it in my own heart and mind as to inform any who might be reading. He said I "deserve hell." Yes, of course I know that. It's just not something I've ever considered. It's something I've glossed over all my life. Yeah, sure, I know that. Now, change the subject.
No, I've not robbed any banks, killed anyone, or committed some gross immorality, although in today's world, immorality is not even considered sin, much less gross. In Psalms 51:5, David said I was conceived in sin. Not that he's saying my mother committed adultery, but that because the first Adam sinned, I inherited his ability. Sin is in the DNA. Therefore, I deserve hell.
But, God in His great mercy and grace, made provision for my sin in the Person and work of His Son, Jesus Christ. Contemplating Spurgeon's comment brought me to the conclusion that I could have been the one on the cross, should have been the one on the cross, and would have been the one on the cross, except for the One who took my place. The sinless Lamb of God.
Now, if I had gone to the cross, I still would not only deserve hell, but I would be there. Remember the two thieves on the cross? The one who hurled insults at Him? "Aren't You the Christ? Save Yourself and us!" (Luke 23: 39) The second criminal set him straight. "We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this Man has done nothing amiss." (Luke 23:41) It took a sinless Person to pay the penalty for my sin. I deserve hell, but by God's grace, I'm not going there. What about you, dear friend? Do you know where you will go when you die? Do you know why you'll go there?
Regardless, I'm compelled to blog on in my own fashion because I've been so blessed by the Bible study I've been concentrating on for the past 2 1/2 weeks. In the study, Charles Spurgeon is quoted. For the two or three of you who may be reading and don't know who he was, Charles Spurgeon was a preacher in London. His sermons were so incredible, it required a ticket to get into his services. Imagine. If you didn't have a ticket, you couldn't go to church! If only it were like that today. It was also his church that brought about enactment of the law that prohibits shouting "Fire!" in a crowded building. Someone did in his church and the resulting panicked stampede cost 6 people their lives.
But, I digress. As I said, he's quoted in the Bible study. Something he was quoted as saying struck me powerfully and I want to document it-as much to imprint it in my own heart and mind as to inform any who might be reading. He said I "deserve hell." Yes, of course I know that. It's just not something I've ever considered. It's something I've glossed over all my life. Yeah, sure, I know that. Now, change the subject.
No, I've not robbed any banks, killed anyone, or committed some gross immorality, although in today's world, immorality is not even considered sin, much less gross. In Psalms 51:5, David said I was conceived in sin. Not that he's saying my mother committed adultery, but that because the first Adam sinned, I inherited his ability. Sin is in the DNA. Therefore, I deserve hell.
But, God in His great mercy and grace, made provision for my sin in the Person and work of His Son, Jesus Christ. Contemplating Spurgeon's comment brought me to the conclusion that I could have been the one on the cross, should have been the one on the cross, and would have been the one on the cross, except for the One who took my place. The sinless Lamb of God.
Now, if I had gone to the cross, I still would not only deserve hell, but I would be there. Remember the two thieves on the cross? The one who hurled insults at Him? "Aren't You the Christ? Save Yourself and us!" (Luke 23: 39) The second criminal set him straight. "We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this Man has done nothing amiss." (Luke 23:41) It took a sinless Person to pay the penalty for my sin. I deserve hell, but by God's grace, I'm not going there. What about you, dear friend? Do you know where you will go when you die? Do you know why you'll go there?
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