Then he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Matthew 4:19 NLT

Way back in 1968, the stone age to many of you, Ken received his military discharge following eight years of service; one in Iceland, three in Germany, and four all across the US. After growing up with New England winters and experiencing a lot of cold weather at his various military assignments, he was convinced he wanted to settle in a warmer climate. And since some of his siblings had already migrated to Florida, he decided that would be the ideal spot for him. He landed in Tampa for a while, but scouting and his varied travels had convinced him that he was no longer a city boy, so he made the move slightly north to Brooksville, which was a lot smaller at that time than it is today. In fact, most of Florida still had a quieter, easier way of living. Walt Disney had not yet brought the “mouse” to central Florida that transformed the area into the tourist mecca that we all recognize. Produce stands still dotted the roadsides, selling their wares at ridiculously low prices. And housing was really affordable.

One more thing that Ken really loved about his chosen home was that most days, after work, he could stop by the house, pick up his fishing gear, and head to the beach or pier. He never knew what he might catch, and it didn’t matter. After a lifetime of eating things that swam, he never allows fish, shellfish, or any other swimming creature to touch his plate. He fishes for the pure joy of the catch or even the discovery of something unexpected at the end of his line. He loves the challenge of landing a particularly crafty fish, but he is just as happy reeling in one little sunfish after another. And those fish can trust him to let them live to swim another day, unless a new acquaintance on the beach would like to take them home for supper.

The key to his enjoyment of Florida fishing in those bachelor days was the ease with which it occurred. All his gear could be left out, right where he could get to it easily, no one nagging him to put it out of sight, and he could be quickly on his way.

Fast forward to 1983 when I met him, and fishing wasn’t even on his radar. As a single dad with two kids in tow and a scout troop clamoring for his attention, he barely had time to work… just kidding. He did a great job of managing Missouri’s beautiful state parks. But even when we moved to Montauk, a very busy trout fishing park, he just didn’t find the challenge tempting. (He did, however, enjoy casting his fly rod there once he had retired.) Even when we moved on to Bennett Spring, Ken did not engage in fishing. By that time, he was concerned that the public might see his spending time on the riverbank as inappropriate for the park superintendent.

I do, however, recall a few times during our marriage when he really enjoyed fishing. One was a visit to the quiet side of the Smoky Mountains where he caught and released wild, native trout. He spent many hours on that river, and it offered him deep relaxation as he was making a job transition. The other occurred while he managed Dogwood Canyon Nature Park. A family named Rockefeller came to do some serious trout fishing. The guides were all occupied with adult fisherpeople, but there was a boy around eight years old who wanted to fish as well. No one had time for him, nor experience working with kids, so Ken took him. And a boy who was rambunctious and a bit unruly according to his adult people became enchanted with fishing because someone took the time to be with him and offer instructions. He caught his first fish, and he was, shall we say… “hooked?”

The call clearly remains the same…to be fishers of men.

That’s kind of how it is with people. When we take some time and show a little interest in them, we show them how to be like Jesus. We catch a lot more people with the gifts of our time, our kindness, and our love, one human for another, than we would with speeches about how they should live their lives. Just set a Jesus-like example.

Are you willing to let Jesus show you the intricacies of soul fishing? The catch is as slippery as a [Rainbow Trout], but worthy of the spiritual brawn you will cultivate in intimate moments with the Lord.

So, what do you think? Should we polish our Jesus skills and go do a little fishing?

(Quotes, other than scripture, are from God Moments Too, with some paraphrasing.)

The Word brought life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. John 1:4

It was a dark and stormy night, the moon obscured by heavy cloud cover as wave after wave of an angry ocean swept over the deck. Sailors were exhausted by the very intensity of the storm, many on their first voyage. The captain, wisened by long experience, knew the danger they faced, but kept his calm for the sake of his crew. He’d sailed here before, knew there was a light close by, but the storm was so fierce that light couldn’t penetrate. They must not allow the ship to drift too close to the rocky shore and yet not be carried out to sea either. The captain walked a very fine line.

And suddenly… was that a faint light in the distance? The sea began to calm, the waves subsided, and, yes, there was the beacon from the lighthouse. They were safe for now. Cheers erupted from the deck, the captain wiped the sweat from his brow, and joined the jubilation as one more ship was saved by the diligence of the light keeper who kept the fire going all night long.

Those early lighthouses that dotted our newly settled coastline were literally a lifeline for ships attempting to navigate often rocky coastal waters or avoid going aground in sand. The first keepers carried coal to an open brazier at the top of the tower. It is estimated they burned about a ton of coal a night, but on a stormy night, that number could rise to three tons, and was accomplished by perhaps three light keepers. It was the most labor-intensive occupation of the seventeen hundreds.

By the early nineteenth century, coal was being phased out and replaced first by whale oil, later kerosene, and a highly effective Fresnel lens. This compact lens is designed with a series of concentric, stair-stepped grooves that dramatically reduce the amount of material and weight of a conventional lens while maintaining the ability to bend and focus light. The lens is illuminated by a single, much smaller light, and the advent of electricity eliminated the need for a light keeper to transport fuel to the top.

Most of the lighthouses of the past have been retired in favor of new technology that allows sailors to read the ocean in great clarity. But many states and communities have continued to maintain their “lights” as a beautiful part of our history. Some can only be spied from a distance, while others are open for tours. In our travels, I never failed to talk Ken into stopping to check out a nearby lighthouse. The simplicity of their origins fascinates my imagination, and the technology of their development provides a glimpse into the intricacies of navigation.

Our daughter’s family is vacationing in the Great Lakes area now. They have visited lighthouses along their way and posted photos so that we can track their adventures. At the same time, we are experiencing lots of stormy weather during this season, and that started me thinking of Jesus as our lighthouse. When we’re enduring storms in this life—and we all do—he quietly watches over us, and when we become weary from the burden of our storm, he turns the light on for us and illuminates the way forward. He is our anchor in the storm and the solid rock on which we can rebuild. In the darkest of times, Jesus can turn on the lights and provide the clarity we need to withstand whatever troubles we have.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. John 1:5

If you have an opportunity to visit a lighthouse and learn its history, I encourage you to take the time. It’s well worth it. And while you’re there, think about the times in your life when Jesus has turned on the “Light” for you. We don’t know if our sea captain of old was a follower, but I like to imagine that on that very stormy night, he may have had a brilliant encounter with the Savior of the universe.

I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life. John 8:1

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.

John 1:14 (MSG)

The atmosphere is electric! The crowd, giddy with anticipation, suddenly erupts in cheers and applause, then quiets to hear the opening song. It’s one of the most sought-after concerts of the year, featuring a musical artist of enormous popularity. Thousands of fans sway to the music and sing along. The evening is beautiful, and many nice memories are made.

There is a phenomenon among fans of musicians, actors, athletes, and other celebrities that continually amazes me. These loyal fans are convinced they know the personality they admire. They read everything they can possibly find about them, and social media is full of stories, good and bad, about each one. Because their minds are filled with words and images about their favorites, they begin to see them as friends—and a one-sided relationship begins to form. But the reality is that celebrities are just people, like you and me. And while they enjoy the glamour and attention, the only thing they really share with us is the opportunity to witness their gifts and talents from a distance. They are not available to share our personal joys and sorrows—they are living their own lives, far removed from ours.

On the other hand:

Jesus was radically available to everyone. Bob Goff, Catching Whimsy

How is one radically available? Well, just take a closer look at Jesus’ life. He could have turned away from the woman at the well because of her reputation or even just because she was a woman. But he didn’t! He could have chosen to rest instead of healing the sicknesses brought before him by the crowds. But he didn’t! He could have given up on Peter after all his misdeeds. But he didn’t! He didn’t have to feed the multitude that came to hear him teach. But he did! He didn’t have to come when his friends sent word that their brother was dying. But he did! He didn’t have to turn and call out to the woman who touched the hem of his robe. But he did! He didn’t even have to respond to the request of the thief on the cross beside him. But he did! Wherever he was, Jesus always made himself part of the “neighborhood,” reaching out to those who needed him.

I think you’re likely getting the picture. Being radically available means being the kind of person to whom others are drawn. I’m not talking about the celebs in our lives, though I certainly do enjoy music and entertainment as well as the next person. In this instance, I mean being a person who smiles and shares a moment with someone who looks lonely. Or welcomes a knock on the door at mealtime—maybe even adding a plate to the table when not sure whether or not there’s enough to go around. Hungry people are sometimes in search of a different kind of food, one that involves our time and attention. It may mean sacrificing something we wanted to do for something that needs doing.

I know there are many times when I’m not even remotely available, much less radically so. I need to change that perception of myself and begin to think more like Jesus. I’d like to feel that our neighborhood (literally and figuratively) is filled with Jesus’ goodness (and radical availability) partly because I live here.

We all live off his generous abundance, gift after gift after gift. We got the basics from Moses, and then this exuberant giving and receiving, this endless knowing and understanding—all this came through Jesus, the Messiah. John 1:16-17 (MSG)

I’ve had some favorite performers over the years, been to a few amazing concerts, and gotten caught up in the excitement of it all. I’ve enjoyed first-run blockbuster movies featuring excellent actors and cheered loudly for a few athletes who’ve caught my attention, even aligned myself with some seemingly well-meaning politicians. But they are typically here today and gone tomorrow. Jesus, however, has always been radically available, always been a part of my “neighborhood.” He is my one true bright and shining star. He’ll always be right here for me—and for you.

Suddenly, the storm stopped, and all was calm.

Then he asked them, “Where is your faith?” Luke 8:22b-25a (NLT)

The first flash of lightning lit up my bedroom like daytime, and it was quickly followed by a crash of thunder that began as a crack loud enough to wake the dead and continued to roll loudly through the surrounding hills for what seemed like forever. I checked the radar, and it was so full of lightning symbols I could barely see the radar imprint over our area. That was at 4:48 AM. It is now 9:30 on Monday morning, and there is still thunder rumbling all around, not as loud as those earlier displays, but certainly not giving up its hold on Clever, MO.

Last week’s message encouraged us to be still and listen for God to speak. Today, stillness wasn’t necessary. His voice spoke loudly in the dark of night.

But let me backtrack a bit. It wasn’t exactly a banner weekend for us. It seemed all our best-laid plans just disappeared into thin air. I won’t bore you with details; suffice it to say, not much went as we had wanted. On top of that, or maybe partly because of it, my writing muse seemed to be AWOL. I had hoped that something or someone at church would provide a spark that could turn into a useful message, but that was not to be.

As the day wore on, bad news kept tumbling into my lap. I heard a notification on Ken’s iPad that, considering the darkening sky, could have been a weather warning. He was working in the garage, so I checked it out, only to learn that Iran had broken its peace promise and lobbed missiles at Israel again. A little later, Ken read me a horrible story of how one government was forcing small children into slave labor in order to pay off debts incurred by their parents through the unethical practices of that same government. And then, Ken announced that a tornado warning had been issued for Springfield. What was that about? All our forecasters had agreed that the rains predicted for the weekend didn’t carry a severe threat, and yet the heart of Springfield was under a violent siege. We turned on the TV around seven thirty and found our trusty weather specialists in the midst of continuous coverage, which lasted until ten o’clock. A couple of tornadoes were confirmed, but they were brief. Thankfully, no lives were lost, and property damage was not widespread.

Here’s the thing….before falling asleep last night, I asked God to show me clearly what this week’s message should be, and He gave me a very noisy and conclusive response. Whatever worries I have are minor in the grand scheme of things because He is still in control. A God who can stir up the heavens as He has done can surely solve the problems of humankind. He will be with little children who are oppressed and hurting. He will ride out all our storms right beside us because He loves us and wants to protect us. And if some government leader decides it might be a good idea to press that button that unleashes nuclear war on our world, He gives us an out….it’s called heaven. What more could we want?

For now, the storms of life will keep coming, and after checking the forecast, it looks like we may have a bumpy week ahead. Just remember, God is still in control, and nothing or no one can defeat Him. Trust Him to be right by your side.

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting, “Hallelujah! For the Lord God Almighty reigns. Revelation 19:6 NIV

In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly. Psalm 5:3 NIV

Being “here” or in the here and now is often a challenge…we live in a nutty world, running at the speed of light for 25 hours a day. OK, I exaggerate a bit, but really, we seldom take the time to truly smell the roses or notice the little blessings we encounter every day.

I have to admit I like being busy. Sitting quietly is not my strength. But sometimes God gives us a time out in which to rest…you know, a little back strain to limit our activity. An illness or injury makes us slow down and enjoy the warmth and comfort of home while someone else does the housework. A storm that leaves inches of snow keeps us homebound until it’s plowed. A power outage left us only candles and battery-operated lights. And, of course, the loss of someone we love.

Recent losses in our church have left us with a big hole in our hearts. Familiar voices we won’t hear again, eyes sparkling with a little bit of mischief but also lots of love, stories from times past, and plans for the future. It hurts when our plans are changed forever, yet during the grieving, we find quiet times in which to seek the comfort of the Holy Spirit. The ability to be still is truly a blessing. I’m learning, albeit slowly and sometimes painfully, that stillness is not a punishment. It’s an opportunity to connect or reconnect with Jesus, to rest completely under the sheltering wings of the Almighty.

In the midst of your daily storms…make it a point to be still and set your sights on Him.

Max Lucado, God Is With You Everyday

Some people can hear God speak. I can’t say I’ve ever heard a voice that I believed to be God enunciating words in a conversational manner. With me, it’s more like a gentle breeze ruffling my hair when there has been no breeze at all. It catches my attention and I wonder, “Is that you, Lord? What are you trying to tell me?“ Or I may have a very vivid dream, tossing and turning until it wakes me. And that dream may offer me a point of reference from which to write. And I just say, “OK, Lord. Message received.” Sometimes, those messages hit me like the proverbial two by four, while at other times, he really makes me search for them. But I do believe that it’s in the stillness, the middle of the night or when I’m sitting alone on the deck, that I’m most likely to experience a disturbance in the routine of daily living that feels like God is trying to communicate.

We’ve all had moments and situations when we’re about to do something that we know would be against God’s will for us, and something tells us to stop. Most people call it a conscience. I see it as a message from The Holy Spirit reminding us of whose we are.

Be still, and know that I am God! Psalm 46:10

However you prefer to communicate, don’t neglect to do it. It’s those conversations in the stillness of your night, or day, that keep you close to Jesus. And when the inevitable storms of life, whether physical or emotional, keep you awake, use that stillness, that absence of activity, as a perfect opportunity to talk with him. If you seek Him, He will hear you, and in His good timing, he will answer.

Speak to me now, Lord, and make your voice crystal clear. May it never

be said of my life that I almost listened & almost followed.

I will follow. Max Lucado (On Calvary’s Hill)

I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. John 15:1-2

We’ve lived in our current home for over ten years now, and it came with a large holly bush at either end of our screened porch. I prune them by hand every year, several times, in fact. And only once, in all those years, have I let Ken get near them with the hedge trimmers. I like bushes free-formed by nature with a limited amount of control. He likes them neatly shaped and cropped closely. On one occasion, I gave in and turned him loose on one of them. It looked so naked for so long, I just couldn’t do it again. But I was very wrong. The bushes needed their excess trimmed away.

Weekend before last, on Saturday, I went out with my trusty hand pruners and began to cut away at the excess growth. I found that new growth only extended about eight to ten inches into the bush. Beyond that depth were only spindly little branches that were three to four feet long…and there were bunches of them. I trimmed everything from the bottom and worked my way up, but it was beginning to cloud over, and the wind was blowing very hard, so I asked Ken to help me bag the trimmings. I thought we could decide what to do about the out-of-control bush later. We bagged my clippings, and then he started trimming. When he was nearly finished, rain was imminent, and we still had a few scraggly limbs at the top. I headed around the pile of trimmings and caught my toe on the concrete pad beside our deck landing. I came down hard, flat on my face, but after a quick assessment, the only damage to my body was a black and blue toe and a few abrasions on my nose, along with a bruise or two. Of course, my new glasses were toast, but there were no breaks or any cuts or bruises anywhere else. I can only assume that Jesus took the fall for me, as He has so many times before, both literally and figuratively. (And I’m healing well.)

Fast forward to this past Saturday, Ken removed all the remaining growth from the scraggly bush we’d left behind the week before and the entire bush from the other end. They are both merely stumps now, and we don’t know if they will try to grow again, but they’ve had a good run, and we’re content with or without them.

You may wonder what my point is….simply this: Most plants need to be pruned from time to time, sometimes lightly and sometimes severely, in order to maintain overall health. Jesus used the reference to grapevines in John 15 to help us visualize our need to also be pruned. We carry lots of baggage throughout our daily lives….financial burdens, health issues, long-held grudges, addictions (those come in many forms), unresolved anger, and bad habits. Some of our baggage is good, but too much of a good thing can be very tiring and leave little time for things that matter more.

I learned during these past two weekends that our bushes needed exactly what Ken wanted to do all along, but I had chosen to hold on to all that unnecessary growth because I wanted a certain look. It wasn’t good for the bushes, and it isn’t good for me to hold on to the excesses in my life either. All of which brings me to our amazing youth praise band and their choice for the communion song they shared on Sunday morning, one of my very favorites, Tend. Jesus left us with the analogy of tending grapevines in order to teach us that we need to let His Father prune our unneeded branches.

So be the gardener of my heart. Tend the soil of my soul.

Break up the fallow ground, cut back the overgrown.

And I won’t shy away, I will let the branches fall.

So what You want can stay and what You love can grow.**

And one more connection to Sunday morning’s service… Pentecost brought the Holy Spirit to guide the disciples in His absence. As we celebrate the day of Pentecost, we too are offered the Holy Spirit as a constant guide and companion for our lives. Will you cling to Jesus and let Him be the true vine in your life? Will you let God be the gardener, accepting all the necessary pruning? And will you invite the Holy Spirit to be your constant guide and companion? (…for a triple braid of cord is not easily broken. Ecclesiastes 4:12b)

(**Chorus of Tend by Bethel Music and Emmy Rose—2022)

Words! They’re probably the greatest of the gifts I’ve received and the one carrying the most longevity. My affinity with words likely began with my mom always reading stories to me as a little tyke. I quickly memorized all the fairy tales that were a part of childhood in the 1940s. When school took over most of my waking time, I delved deeper into words, became an ace speller, and read countless books. My reading interest waned a bit in high school, but I replaced that with a keen desire to write, to express myself through my own words rather than those shared by others.

As a young adult, writing took a back seat for a time while I invested myself in other gifts with which I have been blessed, not the least of these being motherhood. But the kids grew up and flew the proverbial nest, health issues made most of my other endeavors difficult, so I returned to writing, and it’s been a blessing to utilize words again. It’s easy to understand, then, that my eye latched onto some devotional books, published by Guideposts, that are completely built around using a single word each day as their theme and building a devotional reading from that lonely little word.

Two of the books are Pray A Word A Day, I & II, and they contain 365 entries each for a total of 730. The other two deal specifically with Hope and Strength, each containing 100 devotionals, all for a total of 930 words. That seems like a lot of words around which to build faith-based articles, but when one considers the number of words in our American English vocabulary, it’s really not. And you’d be surprised how the human imagination can wrap a very ordinary word like “do” or “yell” or “bind” into a meaningful life lesson. It doesn’t necessarily require a complex word to make an important point.

One word that recently caught my eye was morsel. By definition, it is a small serving of an appetizing food or a scrap of something such as news or advice. It derives from Old French (small bite or portion), which comes from the Latin expression, morsus (a bite).

One type of morsel that I am particularly fond of is dark chocolate. Without a morsel of its richness on a regular basis, I would feel deprived of something very special. But the more I think of the word morsel, it begins to carry much greater weight.

The devotion that inspired my interest told of a person who was referred to by a caring relative as a “precious morsel.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that moniker until she began to see it in different terms.

The more I thought about being a precious morsel, the more I understood that’s all I really want to be. A bit of love. A sliver of wisdom. A scrap of joy. A thread of encouragement. Little acts that in the Lord’s faithful hands become precious morsels that go down so sweet.

If I can daily remember to sprinkle love on those I encounter, pass along traces of wisdom accumulated over my many years, tear a scrap of joy from the fabric of my life and share it, weave a delicate thread of encouragement into the concerns of a friend or stranger, along with countless other delectable morsels, perhaps I can spin a tapestry of daily living that make someone else’s day a little brighter. When we all do our very best to scatter small seeds of goodness, God smiles!

You, Lord, are a big God who delights in small things.

In the beginning, God created…..

When was the last time you accepted an opportunity to truly ponder that simple yet overwhelmingly profound statement? Have you imagined a boundless void where now stands a mature and majestic tree? How about a snow-capped mountain or a seemingly endless ocean, teeming with life of every description? When did you take the time to savor the intricacy of a freshly opened blossom or cradle a newborn child? God created every single solitary thing!

For the life of every living thing is in His hand, and the breath of every human being. Job 12:10 NLT

How can we absorb the complexity of everything surrounding us and not know that God absolutely is the hand that created it? Created…not just assembled from parts and pieces lying around, but with His Hand, brought it into being. It’s truly astounding to imagine that there was nothing, and then, as he spoke, there was everything.

These past few weeks, I’ve been acutely aware of the power of creation and recovery. Following our spring freeze, which stopped every growing thing right in its tracks, it’s been amazing to watch the transformation from the gray of winter to the lush growth of spring. As a matter of fact, our trees and plants resemble the fullness of early summer. And it happened so fast, it almost seemed like a new creation. What appeared to be barren and dead leaped almost instantly onto a colorful palette of life.

I’m so grateful God chose to insert us into this time and place. To be a part of His masterful plan is a privilege I often take for granted. So today, I thank you, God, master of all creation, for the gifts you have provided for all your children. Help us to remember to care for them with the same care you extend to us each day. Help us to grow into the people you intended us to be.

….neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. I Corinthians 3:7 NLT

Wherever we go, we will always be immersed in the goodness of our God. And if He was able to create such vast beauty here on earth, just imagine what awaits us in His heaven!

We cannot find a place where God is not! Max Lucad