If you don’t know Jesus, you might misunderstand that statement. You see, I was raised by two loving biological parents, but when I was eleven years old, I completed my instruction, accepted Jesus as my Savior, was baptized, and became a child of God. Quite certainly, I did not grasp all the implications that accompanied my conversion until much later. And I’m still learning. An ever-growing earthly family has broadened my spiritual growth.

God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure. Ephesians 1:5

Between the two of us, Ken and I have a mixture of grandkids, the oldest being a step-grandchild to both of us. Of the next eight, five are biologically traced to Ken, and I lay claim to three. Number ten was adopted into our family and, as such, is not biologically connected to any of us. But each child is and always has been treasured by both of us, because regardless of where they began, they are all our grandkids and we love each one dearly. As a matter of fact, we’re always referring to traits that they display as descending from one parent or the other, or sometimes to either of us. Often, the person referenced is not biologically connected to that child, but they’ve been a part of our family for so long that it’s just natural to assume they have inherited some of our traits. And, realistically, they have absorbed some of their characteristics just by being a part of our environmental sphere.

Abba, Father; Thank you for accepting me as I am but not leaving me the same. Max Lucado, Pocket Prayers

I remember when each child was born or when they became a part of us, and I remember adoption day especially well. Our little bundle of girl joy was a gift from a mom who wasn’t able to care for her. We knew her before she was born; it was our daughter and son-in-law who stood by on the day she took her first breath and have cared for her every day since. We had a preliminary court date that gave temporary custody to our kids. I waited outside the courtroom and held that tiny bundle so all of the other important players could appear before the judge. As I looked into her pretty blue eyes that day, I knew that she would provide many adventures for her new family. We had to wait six months for the final decree. This time, we were all in the courtroom, and she bounced on her dad’s knee during most of the proceedings, laughing and entertaining all who awaited the important words from the judge, who was also laughing with her. She seemed to know it was a special day, and it was a joyous affair when she became an official part of our family.

When an infant is adopted into a family, the child has no choice in the decision. The adults in the equation do all the decision-making.

The process for entry into the family of God is, in many ways, a much simpler one. No documents need to be signed, and the only judge is God himself. And here’s the best part….He’s already chosen you and me! Even though he wants every one of us to know His wonderful love, He lets us decide whether we will or won’t accept His gracious offer of forgiveness and mercy, His offer to spend eternity as a treasured member of His family.

And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty. II Corinthians 6:18

As I’ve aged, the implications of my acceptance into God’s family have become much more profound. I realize that along the way, I’ve disappointed my heavenly Father but, just as my daddy lifted me in his arms after a fall to check out my “boo boo” and kiss it well again, my heavenly Father takes me into His loving arms, welcomes me with a big hug and assures me that, with His guidance, I can do better next time. Sadly, sometimes, even with the best of intentions, our earthly fathers let us down. But God will never let us down, never turn His back. He just asks us to love Him with all our hearts and try to act according to His will for us. He wants us in His family. He chooses us, you and me, to be His adopted children.

God assessed your life from first day to last, from worst moment to best, and made his decision. “I want this child in my kingdom.” You cannot convince him otherwise. Max Lucado, God’s Story, Your Story.

Some of you are aware that my husband, Ken, experienced a pulmonary embolism last fall, but before that occurred, he was dealing with a chronic light-headed feeling, which sometimes escalated to temporary dizziness, not as extreme as vertigo, but serious enough to prevent many of the activities he enjoyed. He was in the process of testing to learn the source of his lightheadedness when the blood clot sidelined him, and we had to redirect our focus.  

Once he was stabilized, we continued the search for answers. Following consultations with a headache specialist, neurologist, ENT, and finally a number of sessions of physical therapy plus new lenses from an eye specialist, the conclusion was reached that he had experienced damage to his vestibular system. What you say…..is that?

In simple layman’s terms, it’s what keeps you balanced so that you can stand, walk, and run without falling. This complex system is located inside your inner ear, where it senses your head movements and forwards data to your brain regarding your position and orientation within your surroundings. Your brain then integrates this data with information from your eyes, muscles, and joints. Once this data is assimilated, your brain is equipped to signal your body with the correct information to maintain balance. When damage happens to tiny hairs within the system that read the body’s movements, incorrect messages are sent to the brain, thus creating a feeling of imbalance and lightheadedness.

We don’t know for sure what caused the damage to the vestibular system, but physical therapy and new lenses have worked wonders to improve his condition. The therapists really put him through his paces. At first, it was simple eye exercises, following moving objects with eyes only, then moving the head side to side and up and down while remaining focused on a motionless item. From there, he was asked to walk down a long hallway with a card of words in each hand, held out to his sides, looking back and forth to read a sentence, word one on the left card, word two on the right, and so on. Then the left card was angled above the head and the right down by his hip so that he was looking diagonally up and down to read the sentences. And, you guessed it, he had to reverse the hand positions and repeat the exercise. It kept getting more complicated from there.

The real fun began when he was told to stand perfectly still on a two-inch foam pad with his feet together, then to turn his head right and left to a count of 20, then up and down for the same count. Next, he had to turn his head and accomplish the up and down movement with his eyes closed. To go a step further, he was asked to place one foot halfway in front of the other and eventually one foot completely in front of the other, still executing the side-to-side as well as up and down head movements. If you think it sounds easy, try it. I have trouble with a non-moving floor, the balance pad is quite a challenge.

When he had achieved fairly good proficiency on the pad, he was released to work at home. So when I grab my workout pad, he grabs his balance pad, and we work at the same time. The trick for him is to make himself somewhat dizzy in order to retrain the brain to send the correct messages to the rest of his body.

As I watched him, and occasionally snickered when he became a little tipsy, I began to think about other things in our lives that need to be kept in balance. A couple of devotions that I read on the same day discussed balancing our opinions of ourselves. It’s easy to think too highly of ourselves when things are going just the way we want, and, conversely, when life throws us curveballs, we begin to believe we can do nothing right. Somewhere in the middle lies the truth of how we should regard ourselves.

**Dead center between “I can do anything” and “I can’t do anything” lies…..

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” Philippians 4:13

Paul, the author of Philippians, knew all too well how much he needed the constant support of his Lord and Savior. Most of us have known nothing like the eye-opening experience that Paul had on the road to Damascus when he was struck blind by an encounter with God. You can read about this encounter in the book of Acts, Chapter 9. My point in this missive is that we need not think too highly of ourselves, nor should we be hyper-critical of our actions. Just as Ken must train his whole body to stay upright on his balance pad, we need to find a proper balance in our opinions toward self, and to do that, we must remain close to the real source of our strength, just as Paul learned to do. But, as Pastor Dennis showed us in last Sunday’s message, he had to work hard at it. (See Romans 7:15-25)

Neither omnipotent nor impotent, neither God’s MVP nor God’s mistake. Not self-secure or insecure—a self-worth based on our identity as children of God. The proper view of self is in the middle. Max Lucado, Cure for the Common Life

**The quote is taken from Max Lucado’s Cure for the Common Life. The first portion is in Lucado’s words, and the quote concludes with the Biblical reference from Philippians

Here we go again! It’s Sunday night, and our weather forecasters are warning of severe thunderstorms and possible tornadoes through Tuesday morning. And this comes following major destruction and loss of life in several states, including our own, on Friday. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought to myself, and sometimes verbalized, how truly “weather weary” I am. We’ve been blessed, thus far, with only downed limbs, power outages, and lots of leaf clusters throughout the yard. Others nearby have seen much worse.

As I watch the rain outside my front door, I’m recalling other times when storms came calling. The year we were stuck at 12,000 feet on Pike’s Peak in 80 mph winds & whiteout blizzard conditions (including thunder). And racing across Florida in our camper to escape the wrath of a hurricane. Floating down the Current River in an aluminum canoe when a ferocious thunderstorm struck without warning (That was before I knew Ken.) The ice/snow storm that hit in January of 2018, when returning from my sister’s funeral…we waited tucked away on a side road along Highway 60 until MODOT could get a truck out to clear the big hill coming down into Springfield from the east. We’ve had our share of weather events, and these are just a sampling. I imagine you’ve experienced a few as well.

Lots of storms are not weather-related. They come in the form of emergency trips to the hospital, learning of a serious diagnosis, a call from a worried child telling of a serious injury to their child, or that late-night call saying there’s been an accident. Sometimes it’s having to face the end of a relationship we truly believed would last a lifetime. All too often, it comes as an estrangement between parent and child. And I wonder, how do people survive these storms without Jesus by their side?

But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they’ve never heard about him? Romans 10:14a-b

And then I wonder, have I at some point neglected to say a comforting word about Jesus to someone who needed to hear it? Have I ignored a “God nudge” thinking I was not equipped to handle the situation? Or was it because I doubted it was really God talking to me, or that the person He advised me to speak with didn’t really want to hear my clumsy attempt at addressing whatever was wrong?

And how can they hear about Him unless someone tells them? Romans 10:14c

That’s a powerful statement, and it clearly defines our mission here on earth to never be afraid or embarrassed to breathe the name of Jesus to someone who needs to hear it. Our words may seem awkward or overly simplified, but to the ears of a fellow human who is being tossed and turned while enduring one of life’s storms, our heartfelt words can be lifesaving.

I seem to recall a story about Jesus and his disciples crossing the sea when a tremendous storm came up. The disciples were terrified, but Jesus, weary from all the crowds, had found a soft place in the back of the boat to lie his head and fall asleep. Guided by their understandable fear, his disciples woke him. Then Jesus spoke to the wind and waves with a few simple words:

“Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died, and it was completely calm. Mark 4:39b

So, always remember, when the storms of your own life seem to toss you around like a boat on the open sea or the mountain you’re climbing seems to grow taller with each step you take, reach out for the hand of Jesus and let Him carry you safely to your destination. And, when you encounter someone in the midst of their storm, don’t hesitate to share your Jesus with them.

I’ve been thinking a lot about bread lately. Maybe because I’ve been eating way too much of it. We’ve been on the go a lot, and that translates to grabbing whatever is quick and easy, either at home or on the road. And easy often means sandwiches, made with bread, chicken covered in deep-fried breading, and even the occasional doughnut. And we mustn’t forget the tantalizing pizza. Truth be told, I love all these things, but when they happen too often, my body begins to feel sluggish telling me it’s time for an infusion of salad or fresh fruits and veggies.

When did our disdain for carbs become a way of life. Our ancestors subsisted on bread made from whatever grain was available, hard tack, cornbread, johnny cakes—by any name, it was bread of sorts. Later, wheat became the staple grain used in bread making but it was a coarser version of the whole wheat bread we eat today, the kernels ground between millstones. As better milling equipment was invented and the industrial revolution took hold, wheat was ground into pure white flour. White bread swept the nation, the softer and smoother, the better. My generation and maybe another after us grew up on white bread. A certain number of wrappers from a certain brand-named white bread could even get us into the Saturday afternoon matinee at our local theater. Bring on the PB, & J!

I recall, in the late 1980s, our family doctor informing Ken and myself that the cholesterol level in our bodies was high. We had no idea what cholesterol was, but the doctor convinced us that if we didn’t adopt wheat bread into our diet and cut out anything else made from white flour, we were a heart attack waiting for a place to happen. That was all the warning I needed—whole wheat bread became the staple of our kitchen and even that was used sparingly. And, somewhere along the line, all the other white things we loved were removed from our diet; potatoes, rice, pasta (That was a hard one. We tried the whole wheat version, but it just wasn’t the same.) Today, our doctor wants us to eliminate even the whole wheat versions, claiming that bread of any variety is bad for the body.

Over the last twenty five to thirty years, opinions regarding which foods are healthy for the human body have undergone many changes, but the notion that carbs, particularly those that are derived from grain products, are simply not acceptable dietary components. In our household, we go with the belief that all foods should be eaten in moderation. But still, we miss those hot, fluffy, buttered rolls fresh from the oven, so every now and then we offer ourselves a treat. We may, or may not, possess the will power to remove homemade bread from our diets completely, but there is another bread that needs to remain constant.

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever;

and this bread, which I will offer so the world may live, is my flesh. John 6:51 NLT

These are Jesus’ own words. We hear His promise of life every time we celebrate Communion.

On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it.

Then he broke it in pieces and said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

I Corinthians 11:23b-24

Our bodies will typically warn us when we have consumed too many of the dreaded carbs, but Jesus is Bread we can indulge freely. He invites us to sample the “bread” often. Talk to Him, study the Father’s Word, fill ourselves so full of Him that it spills over onto all those around us. It is our mission to go and make disciples but that can only become a reality when we really get to know Jesus and are filled with His goodness, grace and mercy. So go ahead—be a glutton in your search for the Bread of Life!

Make sure you receive the bread. And once you do, pass it on. After all, if we don’t, who will?

Max Lucado, Outlive Your Life

I am the true grapevine and my Father is the gardener. John 15:1

A few weeks ago, as we were deep in contemplation about Jesus’ journey to the cross and awaiting the greatest miracle of all time, His resurrection, other smaller miracles were happening all around us. Spring was making its appearance, first in tiny, tentative steps, and then it seemed to virtually gallop onto the pages of our lives. There were crocus and daffodils, redbud and dogwood, wildflowers and perennials in countless varieties. So much beauty! One of the earliest flowering trees is the Bradford Pear or, as its common ancestor is known, the Callery Pear, Pyrus Callerana.

Not so many years ago, every new home plan included at least one Bradford Pear tree. They grew quickly, in no small part because of their long growing season, their lovely white spring blooms creating a visual balm for winter-weary eyes. They lasted longer into fall than many of our other trees as well, and delighted us with a myriad of autumn colors.

But there is a “however” to their description. Bradford Pears are not a native species, and just like other non-natives that have been introduced into our environment, they have become very invasive. They are a hybrid cultivar bred to be sterile but have proven to have an ability to overcome that barrier. Birds cross-pollinate them with neighboring trees, often causing a return to many of the attributes displayed by their ancestor, the Callery, one nasty quality being very spiny thorns. Once the trees establish themselves in the wild and multiply, those very thorns make them difficult to eradicate. They also spring up new shoots from their roots and can quickly overtake open fields. Thus, because the Bradford gets a head start in very early spring, many of our lovely natives are being crowded out.

And let us not forget, as many of our neighbors have been learning lately, the structure of the Bradford is not conducive to providing strength. All its limbs spring forth from one central location and grow upward rather than alternately growing from a thicker main trunk and spreading outward. The central conjunction of all those branches invites moisture, eventually producing rotted wood. This unique pattern makes the species weak and easily broken when covered in ice and snow or battered by strong winds. Many a home has been invaded by a Bradford branch during one of our powerful and unpredictable weather systems. It’s not unusual to see half a tree where there once stood a lovely Bradford.

The once popular Bradford Pear has been banned in the states of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and South Carolina. Missouri is making its bid to eradicate this “beautiful pest” from our lawns and fields. They offer a buy-back program that provides a start of a native tree to residents who can verify that they have removed a Bradford from their property.

At some point during my Lenten readings, I was happy to see one of my favorite scriptures as the reference for that particular devotion. The early verses of John 15, in Jesus’ own words, carry such a reassuring promise when He refers to himself as the vine and us as the branches. As long as we remain attached to the vine, we will be sheltered and protected. We will produce much fruit. But, tucked within Jesus’ encouraging words is a warning, and the author of this devotion chose the warning to illustrate a point. If we choose to detach ourselves from the vine, we become useless and will be cast aside to be burned. I began to see this well-loved scripture in a new light.

Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. John 15:6

It is difficult to relate the beauty of the earlier verses to the overarching threat of the second part. But the truth is we can be seduced by the world to break away from the vine. But….

Remain in me and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce (good) fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. John 15:4

The Bradford Pear tree certainly provides beauty, but its invasive nature and ability to adapt to changing conditions pose a serious threat to our environment, and so it must be removed. Similarly, the life that we have in Jesus can be contaminated by outside forces that want to lure us away. We must be on our guard and hold tightly to the vine, not let invasive habits entangle our thinking and worm their way into the patterns of our lives. A strong and constant relationship with Jesus nestles us within the protective arms of the Father and ensures a place for us in eternity. The world may try to eradicate Christianity, but healthy branches attached to a strong vine can overcome anything the world has to offer. I like the idea of Jesus being the gardener of my life…don’t you?

Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. Hebrews 11:1

If it weren’t for the fact that I’ll have to start all over again tomorrow, I’d be exceedingly relieved that this weekend is nearly over. Just hours left of this day as I try to write something coherent for this week’s E-blast. And since the problems we’re facing aren’t going away anytime soon, I hope, maybe I can find a message in them.

The good news is that Saturday, Ken ran all over our little town of Clever checking out the offerings at our city-wide garage sale and making some new friends along the way, while I stayed home, puttering in the yard, reorganizing closets, and catching up on laundry. And just when I was about to label it a pretty good day, I failed in my attempt to set up our new printer, and suddenly our ice maker made a ferocious sound that signaled it was giving up. “Why now?” I thought.

I’ve no idea why the printer is being so ornery…it works just fine with my MacBook, but the iPad and phone are a very different story. The devices recognize the printer, and the printer receives the order to print and displays it on the touchscreen, but it does nothing except buffer. The Wi-Fi connection is strong, and I’ve checked all the recommended settings. I cannot find the problem, so I suppose I will have a conversation with a Geek Squad member tomorrow. Isn’t that a lovely prospect for a Monday morning? Sometime before or after that call, one of us must contact Whirlpool to see if they can enlighten us regarding the ice-maker issue. If that is unsuccessful, the next call will be a local repair service. And to top it off, another service call needs to be made to our stove manufacturer. And these are all either new or nearly new appliances. I dare not ask, “What next?”

In the grand scheme of things, these are all fairly minor issues, but when they came all at once and I’m running on very little sleep and we had a church meeting Sunday afternoon that made it a very long day, it’s kind of caught up with me, or maybe overtaken me would be a better description.

While our mundane problems are, hopefully, short-term, there are much bigger things at stake in our lives. Our culture is trying in very inventive and seductive ways to divert our attention away from Jesus, to shove our faith into obscurity. No sooner have we suffered through the memory of a crucifixion and then praised God for the resurrection of His son, than we hear horrific news stories about how God’s children are behaving toward one another. It seems we had little time to embrace the enormity of the gift we were given when evil slipped right back into our midst.

I often wonder how God tolerates His children, but I’m so very grateful that He does. We can’t control the things that happen in life, but we can control our responses to them. I’m the first to admit that I have “occasionally gone a tad overboard” when troubles seemed “to pile on.” When I reflect, it hasn’t been that many years since I didn’t have an ice-maker and certainly never heard of a thing called the internet. We forget sometimes how blessed we are. And we may even wonder how a heavenly being could possibly assist us with everyday maintenance issues with products that should seem foreign to Him. We forget that He has the master plan for everything, and His wisdom can lead us to the answers to what we need and keep us calm as we seek those answers. We can’t do everything alone. Sometimes we possess the necessary skills to help others with their problems, and sometimes we require the skills of someone else to help us. But we always have Jesus at our side to help in ways no one else can. Detours in our daily lives often become opportunities to strengthen our bond with the One we should always turn to first…if I could just remember that.

Today’s inconveniences will pass, perhaps they’ll even become tomorrow’s opportunities, and I need to keep my eye on the prize. Jesus died that I might live eternally with Him, but also to offer me peace and understanding along my life’s journey, in the good times and the not-so-good ones.

He did it for you, too.

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (MSG)

The time has come. The promise that began in Bethlehem some thirty-three years earlier is nearing fruition. A great storm is brewing—not the kind we experience here in the Ozarks in springtime—but an emotional storm of doubt and betrayal. Just a few days earlier, Jesus had been heralded as a king and now, the same crowd has adopted a mob mentality. Just a few rabble-rousers turned worshippers into haters, clamoring for the death of a man who had never committed a crime. And the kangaroo court allowed it to happen.

A mob acts out of emotion, absent facts, absent contemplation, and mostly absent responsibility. What they get in return is anonymity. Conscience can be exhausting. Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird

An angry mob, incited to riot by a few well-placed rumors, by signs accusing someone of something, whether true or not, some targeted comments from the rear of the crowd or social media posts. We’ve seen much of that in recent years, filling our TV screens and flooding the twenty-four-hour streaming newscasts. Our instant communication makes it much easier and farther-reaching than in Jesus’ day. In seconds venomous statements and actions can reach millions of people. I wonder how quickly our current culture would sentence Jesus to death row. And how many of the antagonists would even know why? Or would they just be caught up in the frenzy?

God put the wrong on him who never did anything wrong, so we could be put right with God. II Corinthians 5:21 MSG.

So, the mechanics were set in motion. Jesus would be beaten to within an inch of death. He would be ordered to carry his own cross to the hill where he would be executed. Once there, beaten and bloodied, he would be laid upon the cross and, as the nails pierced his hands, he saw before his eyes every sin that you or I would ever commit. With the nails in place, the cross was raised and his weight fell upon the nails. For six long hours, he hung there in excruciating agony, he was hungry for he hadn’t eaten since the night before. He was thirsty and dehydrated, yet he asked for nothing.

He spoke few words, but those he did utter, were meaningful. To me, the most poignant were the three words, “It is finished.” All the planning since the beginning of time, all the mistakes made by all humans, then and before them, and all that would ever be, came down to that one moment. We can never imagine the weight he took upon himself just to bear our sins.

The day had become dark as night and the heavens roared in anger that this perfect one had to die. And at the instant when he breathed his last breath, the temple curtain was torn in half. The curtain that separated man from God was no more. Jesus had opened the pathway for all mankind to come freely to Him who would forever be our guide, our comforter, our merciful friend, our Savior.

Those three final words signaled not only Jesus’ human death but also eliminated the middleman. We could speak to God directly and He would hear every word.

When I’m tempted to doubt how much He loves me, I remember how Jesus put aside His human emotions, stayed the course, did the will of His Father, and kept going…for you and me. Erin Keeley Marshall, Mornings with Jesus 2025