Deliverance from Bondage

For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. Romans 8:22-25

I was thinking as I read James 4 today that it must be tough for the Holy Spirit to hang with me sometimes. He is in a kind of prison as long as He resides with all of us humans, still so full of the flesh most of the time. Yet, He is gracious enough to hold to Jesus promise that we would have a comforter at all times, so that we need never be alone. Yet even creation knows that better times are coming. You can almost hear the trees say, just wait…….you think I am something now?

They reach for better things just as we do and hold to the promise as they reach for the sky.

Down here we toil and sweat to grow food.The ants have been attacking the Okra, eating the blooms even before they have a chance to blossom. The tomatoes didn’t like the soil this year……still we strive for the hope that we know will come if we persevere. Ants have been dealt with and now plants are producing the way they should have all along.

We have reward for labor.

And the Spirit strives with us, but it will not always be so. He will be set free and so will we, once and for all. Until then, we wait down here deep-rooted to the earth along with the trees.

Not Home yet.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. Romans 8:18-21

On Autism and Painting the Garage with Mustard

I wrote this awhile back about my niece for Bibledude.net but it’s just as timely today……..Lauryn is now 11 and she is a delight to all who know her, she keeps us all on our toes!

Her voice drifts across the many miles via the telephone and I don’t have to wonder what kind of day she has had. “It’s one of those days,” she says, “where she does whatever she can think to do.” She sighs wearily, then laughs. “You won’t believe the very last thing she did.”

“She got the almost new jar of mustard out of the refrigerator,” she continues, “and painted the garage door with it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get mustard off of anything?” She went on to say, “Your Dad is now out there right now, trying to clean it off.”

Things like lotions and dishwashing soaps have to be kept up high as well. To Lauryn, if a little is good, a lot is better. Suffice it to say, her dolls will never have to worry about dry skin.

Nine years ago my Mom and Dad traded in a life of leisure for a life filled with the Sprout’s channel, Barney and the Wiggles. They couldn’t stand the thought of their only Grandchild going to daycare, so at ages 74 and 75, they became caregivers again.

As time went on, things that should have come easily for Lauryn, didn’t. “Mildly autistic” was the conclusion that came at the end of a million tests.

All those little things that parents take for granted, like eating, sleeping, potty training, talking? They became major accomplishments. You want to shout each one from the rooftops, hold them up to the light for the miracles they are. The ones that understand celebrate along with you.

And you suffer a silent grief when others tell you how their 3 year old eats anything you put in front of him, when your child at seven, just won’t eat. There were so many things to learn along the way.

They had to steer clear of bearded men for a long time, including Santa Claus. And they had to learn early on they couldn’t go a different way home. Autistic kids don’t like change. And they like to know the rules, cast of characters, and place well in advance. A surprise trip will elicit, “No me, no me! In other words, “I am not going, no way, no how.”

And you have to learn the difference between the things they are doing because they simply can’t help themselves, and when they just want their own way, like any other kid pushing the limits.

As the Auntie, I have watched from the sidelines as Lauryn sailed over so many challenges. And in my drawers are all the cards I have written her ever since she was born. The ones I will someday read to her, when she can understand. Like how I prayed for the day she would invite me all the way into her circle. The first time she ran to me at the airport, jumped into my arms at the pool, talked to me on the phone. All those things I treasured, an Oscar wouldn’t have meant as much.

People ask my Mom and Dad how they do what they do and they say, “It’s Jesus, only with Jesus.” And I’ve been witness to this, how the sun has barely risen over their little house but my Mom is up already. And she sighs, and prays, thanks God for her health, and asks Him for strength for just this one day because at 83 every day is a day of grace. And he waits on the porch for “his girl.” At 84, she is his life’s work until such time as God calls him home.

And in both of their hearts is the prayer that when they are gone, she will remember them and how they loved her with their lives.

Lauryn has taught us that every accomplishment is really a miracle, and that your heart can always hold more love than you think.

And that when life gets crazy, maybe painting the garage with mustard is all you can do.

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” (Albert Einstein)

image from google images via ltpw-and-barbewue-and-clipart-264.jpg

What Ferguson needs is what we all need.

I was in prayer as to what to write about today, waiting for a direction……a word. I click on the news events, the chief one being the funeral of Michael Brown. I pause when I read these words by Jesse Washington in the A.P article:

He was a “gentle giant” headed to college. Pictures of Brown circulate that show him smiling, baby-faced — reminiscent of the childlike photos that first introduced us to Trayvon Martin.

I try to reconcile that with what I saw on the video of him strong-arming that clerk when he and his companion robbed the convenience store. My mind wants to make sense of it…..wants to reconcile it somehow, settle it. That’s what we want in times like this. We want a definite right and wrong. Black or white, if you will. But sometimes we are left with no right answers but only our emotions, anger, confusion, sadness.

Each side wants to paint a picture, this is how I see it anyway when I look at the media. One side wants us to believe Michael Brown was an innocent young kid on his way to college full of hopes and dreams. The other side wants us to believe he was a thug, a would-be rapper, up to no good and going nowhere fast.

Our minds and hearts grapple……..we want to know what to believe. When it happened, the barriers went up. The battle lines were drawn, and there were those of us who stood back and just wanted to get the facts. We wanted to make sense of the anger and the violence. And then there were those who just wanted to go and see for themselves, to stand in the gap and pray. And I know that’s always right.

To be truthful, right after it happened and I saw Al Sharpton spewing anger on the news, I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again,” I thought, “Why does it always have to be someone like him or Jesse Jackson when there are so many other more intelligent, well-spoken individuals out there who we might listen to.” I believe I am speaking for many people here and not just white people either.

And after that I kind of shut my ears to it all. It just got too noisy.

But now, this morning, I see family members and a community grieving and that’s never good. I know how it feels to put someone in the ground. You can never forget that sorrow.

I’ve read a little about the history of the town of Ferguson and I want to have a deeper understanding. I think of how I would feel if it had been my dear friend’s son standing in the street that night and what if it had been him who had been shot. I would be at that funeral right now. And it wouldn’t matter if he’d been in the right or wrong, or if he’d been inside or outside the law because grief is grief and heartache is heartache.

Kids aren’t perfect, any of them. Neither are any of us. We all have the capacity to make good decisions and bad ones. We sometimes find ourselves doing things we don’t want to do. I do know one thing, violence will never solve anything, but prayer is always right. My prayer is that healing can begin, not just for Ferguson but for the whole world.

In times like these I believe the Church has a unique opportunity to pull together, that’s what Jesus would have us do. Because the world is watching. In fact, that is what Jesus is praying for right at this moment. Unified hearts united with Him. We are called to love each other, and sometimes love means standing back and seeing things from a different perspective.

Deep down, it’s not about black or white or anything in between, it’s about the battle we each fight within our own hearts. And the only way we will ever have true peace, true healing in our hearts is when we invite Jesus in.

If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? Alexander Solzhenitsyn

Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin. Apostle Paul

What’s your sign?

I had not planned on getting any cash back at the store until the Holy Spirit insisted on not letting me pass by this one. He was standing in a place where it’s not surprising to see someone holding up a sign, there are many homeless who hang out at this particular store. He stood on the corner, on the road where everyone exits and enters the shopping center.

His sign said, “A little goes a long way.” Something about it shook me and wouldn’t let me go. The Holy Spirit nudged me all the way into the store and as I ticked things off my list, He was there. And so was he. I separated a five dollar bill from the rest and as I drove out I motioned him over and handed it to him. I felt a spark of human connection as I smiled into his eyes and said, “God bless you.” Which really meant that I didn’t know what else to say.

It meant, “I’m sorry you are in this predicament whatever the cause.”

It meant, “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

It meant, “I can’t imagine how it would be to have to stand out here with a sign.”

It meant, “Where is your mother?”

Both of us part of the human race, both of us struggling in different ways.

“Semper Fi! He said with a gap-toothed smile as I waved and drove off. And today in prayer, he was still making me cry, because really, there but for the Grace of God go any of us. I don’t know how he spent my measly five dollars and I don’t care. What matters is that I didn’t ignore the Holy Spirit when he whispered, albeit insistently.

The truth is we’re all carrying signs. The difference is most of us carry them on the inside. I wonder what would happen if we all got out and stood by that man in solidarity, each with our own signs held up right alongside his.

“Scarred by life”

“Desperate to be loved”

“Deeply in debt”

“Misunderstood”

“Angry and hurting”

“Lost and alone”

Some of us have signs others have put on us that couldn’t be further than the truth. Jesus had one of those. The sign over the cross said, “The King of the Jews.” That ticked the religious people off, they wanted it to say, “He said I am King of the Jews.” What it should have said was, “Savior of the World.”

It was written, “JESUS THE NAZARENE, THE KING OF THE JEWS.” Therefore many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, Latin and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews were saying to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews’; but that He said, ‘I am King of the Jews.’” Pilate answered, “What I have written I have written.” John 19:19-22

What’s your sign?

Until our hearts break at what breaks God’s we might as well be acting in a play. The greatest commandment is to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, strength and mind and our neighbor as ourselves.

Most of the time I suck at it.

I don’t think it means we all quit our jobs and head to Africa or India, but it does mean we have to keep our hearts soft and be open to the Spirit. It’s so easy to be cynical. This world gives us plenty of reasons, and so do people. But the wonderful thing about God is that despite our failings to love each other, God still loves us enormously. He remembers we are dust.

Today, I read this through tears……..receive it with me today:

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with loving-kindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.

The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
Slow to anger and abounding in loving-kindness.
He will not always strive with us,
Nor will He keep His anger forever.
He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

So great is His loving-kindness toward those who fear (respect) Him.
As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Just as a father has compassion on his children,
So the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.
For He Himself knows our frame;
He is mindful that we are but dust.

Psalm 103:1-5, 8-14

photo credit: creative commons

And it was morning…….

And it was morning……..the 3rd day of my 4 days off. I took my mug of coffee out to the patio because it was actually bearable outside. Wonderful actually. It is gray over the Superstitions and there is a wonderful breeze just now. The clouds are moving slowly, languishing, and birds are crisscrossing the sky. Clouds might not always have silver linings, but they did today.

When I opened the umbrella I smiled because some of my Birthday fell out. The cactus wren and the woodpecker both like to stash little treasures in there to find later and in this case it was some my leftover cake that was thrown out in the yard.

The sun is rising behind those clouds and its casting a glow……the two doves were just catching a bit of that light on their breasts shining from the rooftop next door.

The buoy bell wind chimes are clanging out front……wind is picking up now and we just might get some sprinkles. The okra has now reached over my head. Each year, it’s a marvel. To think those little seeds could produce such a plant laden with such a misunderstood delightful vegetable.

I understand not everyone likes okra. I feel bad for you, I truly do. This Yankee had never had any until about 10 years ago when E offered me some. At first I was suspicious. I might have curled my lip. Now I can’t get enough. I put it in stews, casseroles, and of course fried with a little dusting of cornmeal. I am like the Bubba Gump spokesperson for okra…….boiled okra, fried okra, okra stew, okra salad…..well maybe not salad.

Just now the rain which had started as a little drop here and there has become a gentle continuous patter. As I feel the little cold drops hit my neck it feels like answered prayer as it always does in the desert.

I close my eyes and I am taken back to camping years in the big red tent. We used to hear one drop and another hit the tent it was a magical sound, but also one of dread because we were never sure how long it would last, and rain meant inactivity and plastic tarp and sending runners out for food. But sometimes it also meant adventure.

And it was morning……the 3rd day of my 4 days off. And God and I agreed that it was good……………..

Listening to my life…….

He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle. He will bring justice to all who have been wronged. Isaiah 42:3

I have abstained from writing about all the current events because I wanted to let my thoughts settle. Listening to all the recent events my mind has felt like an unsettled pond and at the end of a long work week I feel like I can finally take a deep breath and let it settle somewhat. Between the horrific events involving the Islamic militants, Robin Williams, and Ferguson, Mo. it was like my mind just couldn’t keep up. There were plenty of other better writers and bloggers editorializing and I didn’t feel like I wanted to throw my voice into the ring. The ring was noisy and crowded and so was my mind.

Sometimes a writer has to know when it’s right to jump into the ring of fire or stay on the perimeter looking in for a while.

Last night we had one of our summer storms that are common for Arizona but never common for me. Storms are natures way of breaking loose, of showing us we are not in control. I went out to the freeway just before it hit and took a few shots and felt rewarded. I found the Superstitions veiled in a cloak of dust and clouds and God’s promise.

On the other side of the overpass, the sun was making her exit amidst the backdrop of clouds………

When I got home my Dad called, “I was reading Listening to Your Life, he said, do you have it?” I said yes……..then he paused and said, “I wonder if any of us really understands the Bible? We think we do, but sometimes I don’t think we have a clue what it means.” He went on the describe the passage he had read from the entry on February 8 and when I hung up I read it. Here is a partial reading:

When you find something in a human face that calls out to you, not just for help but in some sense for yourself, how far do you go in answering that call, how far can you go, seeing that you have your own life to get on with as much as he has his?

I thought of the sermon by Charles Stanley that I listened to that morning. He was talking about missed opportunities and how many pass us by each day. Then he went on to talk about Peter and how he could easily have said no thank you to Jesus offer to follow Him. After all, he had a livelihood, he had a life, he had a family to support. But something about Jesus made him realize that this offer was not like any other. As a result, Peter is one we recognize as being one of Jesus closest friends and followers. The rock on which the Church was built.

Parallel his life to that of the rich young ruler who had everything. He clung to his life and turned down Jesus’ offer. We never hear what happened to him but the Bible never says anything more about his life.

I believe it pays to listen to those closest to Heaven, children and old people. It pays to listen to your life and those around you. I am listening to mine today as I ask myself how far I am willing to go for Jesus. I give my allotted time and money and sometimes not even that. I don’t always focus on Him while I pray, I miss the Holy moments far too often and I tend to avoid people if I have a choice.

I am that weakest reed, that flickering candle. But my prayer today is “Thank you God, for not letting me go.”

Despite everything, He loves me. He strives with me. He sees me, the girl who gazes on His world with wonder and it makes Him smile that I notice.

God keeps a tally, the scales of justice are in His hands. He’s the one who will set things right ultimately, and that’s a promise. It doesn’t mean we stand back and do nothing, but it does mean that we can’t fix everything. Maybe we just fight the injustice in our own little corners for a start.

As for me, I went as far as that windy street corner up around 120th street and Broadway, and I can see him standing there as in some way he is standing there still. He is alone and making the best of it with his thin, church rummage overcoat flapping around his legs. His one free hand is raised in the air to wave goodbye. It was the last time. “Here and there in the world and now and then in ourselves,” Tillich said, “is a new Creation.” This side of glory, maybe that is the best we can hope for. Frederich Buechner, Listening to Your Life.

My Birthday is not about me, (not entirely anyway)

People probably wonder why I make a big deal out of Birthdays. Mine and everyone else’s. It’s simple really. It’s because my birth along with everyone else’s on earth is a bit of a miracle. The fact that someone wanted me here kind of blows my mind every single day, and my enthusiasm mingled with wonder and a little bit of awe doesn’t seem to be waning as the years go by.

If you are here reading this post, it’s because first and foremost, God wanted you here. You are of great worth to Him, you and your life!

To let my Birthday slide by as just another day is simply not acceptable, and it bothers me a little when grown adults say they don’t celebrate their Birthdays. Celebrating the day of our birth is a way of honoring God; it’s our acknowledgment that we’re grateful to be here; that we’ve made it this far as the song says, “through many dangers toils and snares.” Yes, especially as the years roll on.

When I think of all the impossible beauty I would have missed if I’d never been born and what beauty I have left to see, it fills me with gratitude that I’ve been given so much; and eternity stretches before me like a vast wonderland I have yet to explore. Yes, this is a thing to celebrate. Apparently God thinks it’s a big deal too:

Psalm 71:6 From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother’s womb. I will ever praise you.

Psalm 139:13
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

Psalm 148:5
Let them praise the name of the LORD, for at his command they were created ……

Proverbs 4:10
Listen, my son, accept what I say, and the years of your life will be many.

Proverbs 9:11
For through wisdom your days will be many, and years will be added to your life.

Ecclesiastes 11:8
However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all.

Isaiah 46:4
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

1 Corinthians 11:12
For as woman came from man, so also man is born of woman. But everything comes from God.

Ephesians 2:10
For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

James 1:18
He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of first fruits of all he created.

So today I will have cake and ice-cream and I will celebrate like a kid. And I won’t refuse any gifts. Celebrate with me today, won’t you? I give you permission. Join me in opening your eyes to the beauty all around us. If you have a porch, go out there with a bowl of ice-cream and enjoy the view. Share a coffee and dessert with someone you love. Eat that forbidden thing you never allow yourself to. Give someone a little unexpected gift. Unwrap the wonder with me today.

Because really, there is something to be thankful for every day.

“To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything He has given us – and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gift of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him. Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful person knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by experience. And that is what makes all the difference.” Thomas Merton

I did not make it, but it is making me……….

I believe in God the Father
Almighty Maker of Heaven and Maker of Earth
And in Jesus Christ His only begotten Son, our Lord
He was conceived by the Holy Spirit
Born of the virgin Mary
Suffered under Pontius Pilate
He was crucified and dead and buried

I believe that He who suffered was crucified, buried, and dead
He descended into hell and on the third day, rose again
He ascended into Heaven where He sits at God’s mighty right hand
I believe that He’s returning
To judge the quick and the dead of the sons of men

I believe in God the Father
Almighty Maker of Heaven and Maker of Earth
And in Jesus Christ His only begotten Son, our Lord
I believe in the Holy Spirit
One Holy Church
The communion of Saints
The forgiveness of sin
I believe in the resurrection
I believe in a life that never ends

And I believe what I believe is what makes me what I am
I did not make it, no it is making me
I did not make it, no it is making me
I said I did not make it, no it is making me
It is the very truth of God and not the invention of any man

As I came in from prayer I put this song on today……..Creed by Rich Mullins. It’s taken from the Nicene Creed which is the profession of faith or creed that is most widely used in Christian liturgy. It forms the mainstream definition of Christianity for most Christians. It’s what unifies us all into One pure and undefiled church. Yes, one body made up of people from all over the world. All of us imperfect, many of us broken, all of us walking the same road toward the One we keep saying yes to, day after day.

My mind and heart goes to those Christians who have lost everything right now. In the past few months alone ISIS groups have gone door to door rounding up Christians along with other groups, herding them into trucks where they are driven off, killed and dumped in ditches. The same thing has happened in Kenya and Syria. For the first time in over a thousand years, church bells are silent in Mosul.

All because they have believed these words that I printed above, not only that, they have lived these words and paid the ultimate price. But also a key point not to overlook; not only have these radical Muslims killed and persecuted Christians, they have persecuted and killed their own people as well. They have no qualms about it. This is what I find most appalling. It’s the same thing that happened in Nazi Germany. If you didn’t pay homage to Hitler it didn’t matter if you were of German descent, you were considered a threat and imprisoned or killed.

This world is in a mess and it will get worse before it gets better, the Bible promises that. So what does that mean here in America where so many times, it’s not just Jesus, it’s Jesus plus my job security, Jesus plus my car, Jesus plus my family, Jesus plus my two glasses of wine at night, Jesus plus my 401K. It means we realize that when it all comes down to it. It has to be Jesus plus nothing.

That doesn’t mean we should feel guilty for what we have, it just means we remember who it really belongs to, and above all, if everything we had were stripped away, we would still have Him (and when we have Him we have everything we need.) What it means for me personally is that I have to loosen my grip on the things of the world and live each day with eternity before my eyes.

Please join me in prayer today for this world, a world that needs Jesus more and more. I know where my home is. I know where I am going. Our borders here in the US are crumbling and there is much I am not happy with. I feel like I am watching my own nation change into something I don’t recognize anymore.

But the anger over what I can’t change has dissolved. In its place, the Lord has put peace. Current events have caused me to reflect more, pray more. And that is never a bad thing. And today, I read Job 38 and once again, it brought tears to my eyes…………He is in control folks. Not to fear.

I walked in the rain

Last night I did what I always say I’m gonna do when it rains, I went out and took a walk in it. And it was marvelous. It was almost Holy, a Baptism from the skies. I walked once around the park, the silvery cold drops hitting my skin like mercy. That is what rain in the desert feels like you know. Those who have rain all the time just don’t understand what heaven it is.

I walked past all the dark and shuttered houses, and I heard the drops like music on all the metal carports, God’s percussion.

I kept walking as the rivulets of water started to collect en mass and pour down the middle of the streets. Amidst the stream there was a bubble parade and each one caught the streetlights, otherwise I never would have seen them. They were marching onward and I watched as they gathered, pooled and ran down the middle of the street like they were all-stars in a Mr. Bubble commercial.

My glasses covered in drops, I was looking out on a world transformed as though I were looking through prisms……I was the girl with kaleidoscope eyes. It was like when I was very small and would press my face to the glass when it rained, imagining another world in which everything and everyone were made of diamonds.

I wondered at all the quiet houses. Walking in the rain sounds crazy when you are inside looking out, but when you are actually in it, it seems like the most rational thing to do. Ask any kid. Watch them laugh as they turn their face to the heavens, catching drops. We tell them, come inside you’ll catch your death. When they are really trying to catch life.

I came inside. E was on the couch with the iPad and didn’t look up. She is used to my weird notions. She just smiles and nods when I say I’m gonna go around again. And I did.

On the way home I passed by Mama dove who was snug on top of her nest, where she has been for the past month. She peeked out from between the thorns, totally dry, totally safe……

I was soaked and it was wonderful. It was the perfect way to wash off the workweek.

“But if I were you, I would appeal to God;
    I would lay my cause before him.
He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed,
    miracles that cannot be counted.
He provides rain for the earth;
    he sends water on the countryside.
The lowly he sets on high,
    and those who mourn are lifted to safety.
He thwarts the plans of the crafty,
    so that their hands achieve no success.

Job 5:8-12

photo credit: google images

To the White Mustang

I saw the White Mustang fly by us and I knew exactly what he was going to do. We all did. I say “he” but it could have easily been a “she.” It was 5:15 and we were all in line to get on the freeway. We were waiting our turn like all law abiding citizens. The light was green and we had just started to move, when he sped by on the right and butted in line ahead of everyone.

Brake lights flashed, I fumed.

I hit my horn out of frustration and said a prayer that the person behind me was paying attention. They were, thankfully. When we finally got on the freeway the White Mustang screeched around and sped down the fast lane and I wished, I wished I wished……I hoped to see him stopped on the side of the road behind some red and blue flashing lights.

This kind of thing happens everyday. Just like people crowding ahead at the grocery store, or climbing over you at the theater. Rudeness is everywhere. You can’t escape it, but you can choose to deal with it in a healthy way. I don’t know why it got to me this morning. I guess something within us all wants to see someone get what they deserve. We want justice…..but at the same time, we want to escape it ourselves.

We breathe a sigh of relief when we get away with going over the speed limit when we are late for work. We want others to be punished but we want a “get out of jail free card.”

There have been many times where I didn’t get what I deserved, Instead I got a big helping of GRACE.

A little helping of grace goes a long way. And when we extend it to others, we are helping ourselves too. It’s like healing from the inside out. When we offer up God’s grace to others, even in small ways, we offer up the Grace of the Cross.

When we forgive, we become a living testimony because in the physical act of forgiveness we demonstrate that we remember what He did and what He continues to do for us every single day.

Maybe it’s someone else you need to forgive today, or maybe it’s yourself. Whoever it is, take a deep breath and give them a pass. Your heart will love you for it.

Lori's Prayer Closet

"And when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done is secret, will reward you……"Matthew 6:6

Author: lorisprayercloset