For most of my adult life, I have dreamt of acquiring a vintage home, one that has good bones and nice exterior lines. I’d love a center chimney or multiple fireplaces and a few well-placed built-ins. Some stained glass would be a lovely bonus. Now, don’t misunderstand, I don’t want it to be in pristine condition. The fun is in the fixing. I want it to be sound but far from perfect because you see, I’ve always loved a good project.   

My dream home has never come to be and we’re getting a little advanced in age to take on a huge endeavor so, over the years, I’ve settled for refurbishing and repurposing smaller items. As a matter of fact, Ken also loves to bring old things back to life. He has a collection of old tools that would make any handy guy envious.

My love of old things began when I was too young and short on money to buy new so my trips to flea markets, secondhand furniture stores, and just plain junk stores were frequent. I’d drag home an old chest of drawers or rugged-looking table and my family looked on in disbelief. There was no way I could turn that piece of junk into something useful. A few cans of paint or varnish stripper, some sandpaper, and steel wool, then a coat of new paint or stain, if the wood was good enough, and I had a new treasure for my home. And my family soon learned that I was pretty good at turning the proverbial saying, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, into an unexpected reality.

Ken and I have a few pieces that came to us through family and others that we have collected along our life’s journey, but we can’t wait to get back into the flea markets (Post COVID) in search of new little treasures. Some of his prettiest tools have found their way onto shelves and tables in our home and I am constantly in search of old ceramic pieces. Our home is an eclectic assembly of old and new, somehow all blending seamlessly together to form a cozy nest.

I suppose in many ways I can claim to be a vintage piece that has been repurposed more than once. As a young teen, I was sure my future lay in art. I didn’t know at my tender age how that would look but I knew it was the direction I wanted to aim for. As often happens life took over, I married young and found myself with a family. There wasn’t time or money for the college life I had thought would be mine.

A turn in the road of life took me to a new challenge, one in camping resort management. While there, I found myself dipping into the art world by designing T-shirts and advertising brochures. My writing skills also began to develop in the form of short historical essays about places in the Ozarks and these were printed in small local publications.

And then one day, when the kids were older, I wandered through the campus store at Missouri S & T, though it was known by a different name then. I discovered some great looking technical pens, and a dream began to form. I bought several and acquired some excellent books detailing the nuances of drawing in pen and ink. Before long I was creating drawings of historic buildings that Ken and I had visited, old gristmills, vintage homes, our state capitol, and surrounding campus. My technique was stipple and that means that the drawing is constructed completely of dots, more coverage for shaded areas and less for open spaces. My works were very time consuming but very rewarding. I sold them in gift shops and to historic sites in Missouri and I was honored with a showing at the Museum of Art in the Missouri State Capitol complex.

And then it all came crumbling down. I began to lose vision in one eye and could no longer do the detailed work required to complete even a small simple drawing, let alone the complexity I’d accomplished before. Three surgeries and a long healing period later, I began searching for a new direction. I never said repurposing was easy, there’s always a lot of work involved.

My attention turned to making cloth dolls that gained the attention of Silver Dollar City. I was able to sell quite a few and keep my creative juices flowing but keeping up with their demand by myself was difficult so I searched once more for meaningful work. Photography kept me busy for a while but never became a vocation.

After moving out of state for a while, we came home to Missouri and finally settled in Clever. It was there that I began writing. Our little church didn’t have a newsletter, so I started one. We were also looking at adding a contemporary service on Sunday mornings, so I accepted the job of creating our weekly order of worship and announcement sheet. A few years later, we made another move to a new church in Nixa called Aldersgate and when I asked how I could help the office staff, they put me to work making announcement slides for the big screens. Before long, Pastor Sarah began work on a new newsletter format and asked me to join the group working to make it a reality. Then last year, COVID paid a visit and so many things went virtual. Once again, it was a painful transition to isolation. When Casey asked me to write an occasional article for the new E-blast Gatepost, I thought, “Okay, I’ll give it a shot”. That was April and Casey said she would take whatever I could write for her. Aldersgate is still going strong, reaching people both virtually and in-person and it’s been a rewarding journey.

Seeing God in your tomorrow is the key to having confidence and courage in your today. Tony Dungy

I didn’t intend this to become a narrative about myself but rather to illustrate how one simple life can be transformed so many times and in so many ways throughout its journey. Sure, God closed doors in my life just as he has in yours, but he always opened another. When we choose to walk through those new doors, wonderful opportunities can be waiting just on the other side. The same happens when we choose to follow Jesus. He will repurpose us in His will. We don’t know what lies ahead, but God does. We only need to awaken ourselves to His possibilities.

So then, if anyone is in Christ. That person is part of the new creation. The old things have gone away, and look, new things have arrived.

When the old year dies and the new one comes bounding in, I will draw strength from knowing that in the next twelve months the snows will go, the buds will burst, the heat will rise, the leaves will fly, that all these things will happen according to Your schedule and in Your time; that there is the order in Your universe and  I am part of it. Van Varner, former Guideposts Editor-in-Chief

Ever been on an incredible spontaneous adventure? Have you been offered an opportunity that was so off-the-wall crazy, so seemingly inconvenient, so totally impractical that you just said “No”?

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an

adventure wrongly considered. GK Chesterton

Imagine you live in the ancient lands of the middle and far east, you have spent your life studying astronomy, you enjoy great knowledge of the heavenly bodies and suddenly, a new star appears, one brighter than any you have ever seen. How will you respond? Will you gather with others of like mind to discuss its possibilities, will you keep this news all to yourself or will you pack a few belongings and climb on your camel to go in search of its source?

So, what made the Magi or Wise Men drop everything and commit to following a star wherever it might lead them. We don’t know how many there really were, but we easily buy into the assumption that three gifts meant three men. We’ve given them names; Melchior, perhaps from Persia, Gaspar, assumed from India,  and Balthazar possibly from Arabia. We depict them arriving at the stable where the Infant Jesus lay in the manger, but we know that in reality, they saw Him much later. In keeping with their religious studies, they had heard prophecies of a new King who would lead the nation of Israel as well as all those who would follow Him, and then they were offered a star to guide them to where He was.

These men, however many there were, could have stayed in the comfort of their homes and ignored the inconvenience of an adventure. They didn’t have to spend months crossing the barren desert and dealing with the perils of traveling in foreign lands. They could have enjoyed hot bread and the fruits of their homelands, but they chose common trail food and water shortages. They endured scorching hot days and cold nighttime temperatures. Perhaps it was a dedication to their profession or curiosity about this change in the heavens, perhaps it was a pull toward the promise of a special treasure. Whatever motivated them, they answered the inconvenient interruption to their everyday life by accepting the challenge of a spontaneous adventure.

When they saw the star, they were filled with joy. They entered the house and saw the child with Mary

his mother. Falling to their knees, they honored him. Then they opened their treasure chests

and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Matthew 2:10-11 CEB

And what if you were a child of today and a friend came to you with a treasure map. As you study it together and curiosity overcomes you, will you go with your friend on an adventurous journey in search of precious treasure or will you decline the invitation and stay inside to play a game. I would suggest that most children would jump at the chance to embark on a journey in search of buried treasure. But the adult in us would likely not be too anxious to trudge across the desert with an ill-tempered camel and only a star to guide the way.

The Magi jumped at the chance for adventure with the intense faith and hope that we see in children. Jesus invites us to join Him on the daily adventure of life and no one would argue that this past year has definitely presented challenges. So, what do we choose? Do we take the easy way and just exist in fear or do we step out with Him? Do we linger in 2020 or do we move on to 2021, a fresh perspective, a clean slate? Do we drown ourselves in the inconveniences or do we transform them into precious adventures?

I wonder in what ways the inconveniences you face today might be experienced through the eyes

of a child? How can you enter into the adventure of your day? GK Chesterton

Happy New Year to all God’s People

And remember the Magi on January 6, Epiphany, the day we celebrate their journey to see Jesus.

Lord, Christmas lights twinkle over our entire neighborhood. Let each be a star to

guide wisdom into our homes.—Mark Collins

This Christmas, 2020, is different in so many ways. We aren’t sharing it with those we love, at least not as we normally would. We’ll talk and Facetime and share time together electronically, but there won’t be hugs and shared meals. We won’t spend Christmas Eve in a candlelit church. Perhaps that offers us new opportunities to experience our modern-day Christmas more like that little family did so long ago. No, no, no. We don’t need to seek out a dirty stable filled with noisy animals and unsavory smells, but perhaps without all the distractions of gifts and noisy conversation we can more easily imagine ourselves there.

Give me faith to believe that, at the birth of Jesus, you really did enter this world—my world—and

you’re still working powerfully in it. Mel Lawrenz, Christmas Joy

In a few days, it will be over for another year. The gifts will be scattered throughout the house, some of them broken from so much use. The food that has filled our stomachs will have settled in places where we’d rather it hadn’t. We’ll tire of the tree and all the other decorations that seem out of place in our homes once the excitement is over. We’ll be ready for the kids to go back to school, for football season to play out its finish, to plunge back into the busyness of life once again. The carols, the shared stories, the new memories will all be stored away in the recesses of our hearts, to be pondered just as Mary did after that first Christmas.

Every day can be like Christmas in its love and peace if our hearts open up and make

room for love. The holy child is waiting to be born in every instant,

not just once a year. Marianne Williamson

But as Christians, we know that Christmas was just the beginning of the story. Babies grow, they become wobbly toddlers, and then they run. Jesus was no different. He required diaper changes, 2 AM feedings, and potty training. He grew up beside a carpenter, perhaps helping to build the necessities of the time. He probably roamed the city streets with friends and faced temptations that all growing boys face. It’s hard to imagine him in those circumstances yet he came to earth with the distinct intent to live a human life and experience the day-to-day joys and challenges of his human peers.

And as all young boys must, he grew into manhood. When he reached his thirtieth year he began to teach and carry out the ministry he was intended for. As with most public figures, reactions were mixed. Many loved him and followed him wherever he spoke. But others hated him and were jealous of the attention he received. They were threatened by his presence. They wanted him eliminated.

In a few short weeks, we will begin another journey, one that leads to a crude and lonely cross. Without the miracle of Christmas, we couldn’t experience another miracle, the grace of redemption.

Mary said, “With all my heart I glorify the Lord! In the depths of who I am I rejoice in God my savior”.

Luke 1:46-49 

He will not be separated from her. Jesus will take His own flesh and blood from hers,

and she will be the source of His humanity. All of this is grace, a free gift from God.

We, too, are people who have been graced, just as Mary was. The Lord took on

human flesh because He refuses to be separated from us broken, sinful

human beings. He suffered, died, and rose again so that we could become

His “graced ones”—the people God is with forever. Dr. Kari Vo, LHM

It was now the beginning of week four. The rush of the family holiday celebration was over and the quiet in our home was nearly deafening. I wanted our joyful togetherness to continue on and on. Love became the theme of our time together and culminated in a beautiful celebration. But all earthly things have a beginning and an end, it was time to put aside the modern celebration of Christmas and focus instead upon the wonder of that first Christmas when angels filled the sky with light and proclaimed the news that a very special Child was to be born and that He would offer never-ending love to all mankind.

We love because God first loved us. 1 John 4:19 CEB

There were two more days until Christmas Eve, two days in which to rest and enjoy the warmth of our home, to share our thoughts regarding the family celebration just concluded and other Christmases long since past. Throughout the years, one of my fondest Christmas possessions has been an olive wood creche that my mother brought me from her visit to Israel long ago. It isn’t an imposing structure, just a simple little stable with crudely carved figures. It’s a humble creche much like the setting where Jesus slept as an infant. It doesn’t find the same spot in our home each year but always lands in a prominent one. It’s nearly indestructible and has provided hours of entertainment and learning for various children and grandchildren. We’ve talked about all the figures and how they contributed to that very first Christmas. We told them about the land where Jesus was born and grew into a man. Some might suggest that a creche shouldn’t be used as a toy, but it was a tangible way for them to learn about Jesus. I remember my daughter telling her daughter not to touch any of the figures and I said not to worry. The creche had seen decades come and go. The stable had been glued back together by a caring Grandpa and the figures had withstood countless little hands. I was certain they would outlive all of us. And so, the creche moves from place to place, but it always tells the sweet story of Jesus and reminds me of my faithful mother.

As the morning of Christmas Eve arrived, I was filled with excitement. Not only would we enjoy the music, the candles, the message of Christmas, but it was my first time back in church since my fall. I was ready to be among friends again. I never fail to find tears in my eyes when the gentle strains of Silent Night fill the candlelit church with love and hope and promise. That night was no different.-At home again on that special night, I have often found myself beside the shining tree, alone after the household had settled in. In those moments when I see that little olive wood creche and the blazing lights covering the tree, the miracle of Christmas becomes so real to me. I can see the host of angels descending on the shepherds and I can feel their fear. I can also share their curiosity and their need to find this special baby. I can imagine Joseph and a very pregnant Mary searching for a place to rest and, perhaps, to deliver her child. I can actually see this city abuzz with travelers coming to town for the census. I can remember being unable to find accommodations in our own travels and experienced the weariness of searching. While I’ve never found myself relying on a stable to provide shelter through the night, I can relate to their feeling of frustration. But when a baby decides to be born, you take care of it. You provide food and clothing and a place to sleep, even if it’s only a feed trough.

I can envision astronomers discovering a bright new light in the sky and wanting to learn about it. And when they discovered that it would guide them to the birthplace of their King, I can understand their need to pack up and travel for many, many miles to see Him. And when they finally arrived and found a young toddler rather than a baby, they presented gifts and worshipped. They had also learned they must travel home by a different route to protect the child from an evil king who wanted to kill him.

It was a time ripe with mystery and intrigue. Those participants of old didn’t have a documented record of historic facts to prove what happened that night. Only a few were even privileged to witness that miraculous event that turned the human story upside down. No longer were we governed by human laws. God came down to earth to deliver a new government, one that was based on love, mercy, and forgiveness.

For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; and the government will rest on His shoulders;

and His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6

We miss out on the reason we were placed on this earth ~ to be so pregnant with heaven’s

  child that he lives through us. To be so full of him that we can say with Paul,

“It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)

Max Lucado, In the Manger, Advent Devotional

The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in. Mitch Albom, author

Next week….Part Five, The Saving Grace of Redemption

It was now week three of my recuperation from the injury I received from that moment when my brain thought that my seventy-something-year-old body could perform miracles and stretch like a monkey. The week brought with it the joy that our family would be here together for Christmas but also concerns about my ability to carry my own weight in the time I had left to create the perfect family celebration. The peace I discovered last week was wavering a bit as Ken and I began to discuss all that needed to be done. My personality stumbles over relinquishing responsibilities I consider mine even when I need help. I tend to savor perfection.

Worry is the darkroom in which negatives can develop. Wanda E Brunstetter, author

We had earlier decided to forgo the usual hunt for “perfect” gifts for everyone and just go with gift cards. However, now that we knew the recipients would be with us rather than many miles away, Ken felt we really should have personally selected gifts for all of them. How could it be Christmas without brightly wrapped packages piled high under the tree? So, even though I had barely been out of the house for more than two weeks, we bundled up and headed for Springfield. With Ken at the helm and myself as a reasonably quiet observer, we accomplished our mission in record time. Next came the wrapping!

I can do all this through him who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13

In the following days, I wrapped each package with lots of love, but only a few at a time and my thoughts then turned to cookies. Each of our kids has a favorite as does Ken so those were a must, but I cut back my usual quantities. Even so, it was a long day, and I was dragging when it was over. I now had one day to myself before the arrival of holiday madness, normally not a big deal, but I was still running on about two cylinders and had to take everything a lot slower. It was time to refocus my attention toward the truth of Christmas. I needed to reconnect with the Holy Spirit to find my hard-won peace from last week, so I took a day off from preparations and spent a few hours in my recliner. Lots of devotional reading, a Christmas movie or two, time spent simply gazing at our beautiful memory-laden tree and my heart was once again centered on Him who gives me strength. My peace returned and then the weekend arrived!

Two of our families arrived on Friday evening. We were off and running, sharing tales of Christmases past and family adventures. Saturday was a whirlwind of activity; we were blessed with fabulous December weather so all the energy filling our living room flowed to the back yard. Challenges were made, the games began, and a great time was had by all. By end of day, it was hugs all around as our girls had to head back home. But our son’s family stayed another day and we wandered through the lights at Silver Dollar City. I hadn’t dared hope that my body would hold up to all of that, but it did, and it was a joyous occasion, one that I have recalled often throughout this year of disappointments.

I also learned that joy comes in different ways and at different levels. It came in bear hugs from grandkids we hadn’t seen in a while. It surrounded me as my family all rallied round to take the burden of preparation from my shoulders. It appeared on smiling faces as they shared their favorite family stories and took turns opening gifts. It bubbled over in a sigh when they bit into their favorite cookies from childhood. So many memories were piled into our family treasure chest.

Rejoice evermore. 1 Thessalonians 5:16

And then it was over and calm reigned over our home once more. There is the joy that comes with earthly people and experiences and then there is the deep abiding joy that comes when we invite the Holy Spirit into our being. I have been blessed to be filled to overflowing with both!

Joy is a thirst that doesn’t want to be quenched; a hunger that knows it will go on and on.

It’s a good thing to never get enough of God. Mel Lawrenz

 I was now ready to quietly continue my journey to the manger and experience the holy birth once more. 

I bring you good news of great joy! Luke 2:10

Next week…Part Four, The Gift of Love

If you don’t like something change it, if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. Mary Engelbreit

If you joined me last week, you know I had an accident just before Thanksgiving, 2019 that left me down for the count just as the biggest holiday season of the year was arriving. By week two, I was starting to feel as if I might survive. One small, yet important miracle was that I hadn’t coughed or sneezed since the accident and I can’t express how grateful I was. That kind of jolt to an injured chest can send a person back to square one. Other than a follow-up visit with my doctor, I hadn’t been out of the house or around people since the accident. I didn’t want to expose myself to the seasonal bugs that might delay my healing and create a lot of pain. That seems a bit petty to me now as I have had a first-hand look at the effect of isolation caused by a pandemic.

By then our home was decorated for Christmas, at least as much as I had felt able to accomplish and I was starting to realize that I really didn’t need so many shiny things to enjoy the holidays. What I really needed was the peace of the season and that could only be achieved by placing all my fears in God’s hands.

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. Psalms 34:8

I spent a lot of time in my loaner recliner. Ken had been kind enough to let me use his power chair and I believe it was there that I received an email from our youngest daughter with their holiday schedule. This was an unusual occurrence as we typically scramble at the last minute trying to decide when and where we will gather to celebrate. Our two daughters who live in Missouri have very active lives. Between work schedules and kid’s activities, it’s very hard to get everyone together. Our son only comes from Texas with his family every few years (his kids are busy too) and our daughter in sunny Florida can’t be pried away from there. Add to that, our family is a blended one, so all the kids have multiple places to visit and no one lives close by.

I quickly passed Jeni’s schedule on to Kim and she responded almost immediately that the weekend before Christmas worked perfectly for them. Wow, that was easy, and Ken said we should contact Joe as well. I did and a day later his text came back saying, “We’re in!”. I couldn’t believe it. We were three weeks away from Christmas and we had a plan that included three of the kids, their spouses, and five of our precious grandchildren. It was a miracle of sorts! Then reality returned and my elation was short-lived as I realized I wouldn’t be able to do all the things my family normally expects to be a part of Christmas tradition. But Ken assured me he would help in any way possible and then the girls began asking what they could do. I wasn’t in this alone. I had a small army of workers to help keep this celebration on track.

  My grace is sufficient in you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. II Corinthians 12:9

From the comfort of my recliner, I planned a delicious brunch centered around Ken’s family tradition of “doughboys”. It’s a very simple concoction of rolled out bread dough fried in hot oil and then topped with butter, powdered sugar, brown sugar, syrup, or any combination of the aforementioned ingredients. I decided that a make-ahead egg casserole would ease our burden on the big morning. We’d add lots of fruit choices, our family can pack away the fresh fruit! Some cheese dip and chips along with more fruit and summer sausage would provide snacks during the day. When it came time for another meal, we’d head out for pizza. Our plan was set, everyone knew what to bring and I could just sit back and relax. I knew it would become hectic at the last minute but for a while, I could just relish the peace that should always come with the season.

Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest. Mark 6:31b

I read my collection of Christmas books, immersed myself in Advent devotionals, and watched all my favorite holiday movies. I was careful to get my prescribed amount of exercise but also the precious rest that I needed. I enjoyed a warm cozy fire alongside our beautiful tree and allowed my sweet husband to wait on me as much as he wanted. And I realized that I was experiencing Christmas as it should be, unhurried and filled with peace.

Though celebrating with family and friends has become synonymous with Christmas, and decorations, along with gifts, become our focus during our holiday season, God wants us to remember the most precious gift of all. Jesus left the comfort of Heaven and came to dwell with us, to share everyday life on earth as a human. He entered the world by way of an obscure young girl’s womb. He slept in a feed trough meant for animals. He and His parents were just ordinary travelers in a strange land where no one really took the time to care that a miraculous birth was about to occur. But the shepherds knew that something special was afoot and Wise Men began a journey to witness the miracle.

Will we see Him as a miracle, or will it be just another festive holiday?

Next week…Part Three, The Fulfillment of Joy

He said to me, “My grace is all you need. My power is strongest when you are weak.” So, I am very happy to brag about how weak I am. Then Christ’s power can rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12: 9 (NIRV)

I have two illustrations to share that may, at first, seem to contradict one another, but hang in there with me and let’s see if we can find a point in all of this.

A short while back, I had a hankering for a bowl of fresh, hot popcorn after supper. Ken, however, went to the kitchen and made himself a chocolate sundae. We’ve learned to read each other pretty well and that sundae signaled to me that he didn’t intend to have popcorn that evening so I found some kind of unsatisfying snack, ate it, and settled in for some reading and maybe a little TV. An hour or so later, Ken went back into the kitchen and I heard cellophane rattling. He was opening a bag of microwave popcorn. I lost it and went on a tear. “How could you do this to me. I’ve already had my snack and you had a sundae. Now you’re making popcorn when I can’t eat another thing! Didn’t you know how I was craving popcorn?” I went on and on while he stood there staring at me as if I were a crazed woman and then I realized that I pretty much was. We both started laughing so hard we couldn’t stop. We spent the rest of the evening laughing and cracking jokes about how silly I was. Laughing at ourselves is really great therapy.

I probably should explain that, while Ken and I have many things in common, there is one very stark difference between us. I am a morning person, and he is a night owl, a trait he has been able to indulge since retirement. Most of the time I’m tolerant of our differing body clocks and for portions of our days, we live in our own little worlds. I eat breakfast before he gets up and by the time his breakfast is finished, I’m looking for snacks. We have two actual meals each day, one apart and one together. Our dinner is a late afternoon affair leaving a lengthy period of time to find ourselves exploring the kitchen’s resources before my bedtime. I will typically indulge in one small snack early in the evening. He, however, continues to nibble. He’s quite the snacker! He may browse all evening and eat the equivalent of a sundae and a big bowl of popcorn, but that night, he did the unthinkable and ate both his favorites. It just struck me wrong! Of course, these days COVID has taken all our plans and tossed them in the trash so there is absolutely no reason for him not to indulge his night owl habits. While I slept, he would be awake for hours still, with plenty of time to “work off” those calories. Hence, the absurd hilarity of our snacking incident.

On the flip side of this coin, I recently read a story that has popped up in several places since my first encounter. It deals with a wate

r bearer in days of old who carried two large pots to gather water each day for household use. One pot was perfect and the other had a crack down its side. The perfect pot always delivered a full load, but the cracked pot leaked half its contents every trip. After a couple of years, the cracked pot could no longer tolerate its frustration at being so imperfect and therefore cheating its master of a full ration. So, it admitted its flaw to the water bearer, who immediately put its frustration to rest. You see, he had known about the crack all along and so he had planted flower seed along the trail on the side where the cracked pot always swung. A lovely swath of blooms gave life and color to the side where the cracked pot had spilled its contents.

In examining these two stories, one might be inclined to say that my behavior was rude and uncaring while the cracked pot felt shame over its inability to perform its task as expected. I would submit that we both were flawed, but because I had been filled with love for God and for my husband, God was able to turn my flaw, or that crack in my side if you will, from frustration into laughter. The pots story speaks for itself. In both situations during a moment of weakness, God provided His own brand of perfection.

These two little tales define eloquently how God transforms all our flaws into lovely surprises that further His kingdom. Through God’s never-ending love, Ken and I were able to turn the frustration of a pandemic into laughter. Just as the imperfect pot unknowingly watered the flowers that graced the master’s table, so can we shower nourishment upon those around us. Think of yourself as a water barrel, open wide at the top to capture all that the Holy Spirit can pour into you. Don’t worry about that crack down your side. It will allow Living Water to pour itself on fertile ground that God has already sprinkled with seeds just bursting to sprout.

When He calls us to a task that we feel is beyond our limits to accomplish, we shouldn’t fear defeat. He will provide the tools and skills we need to get the job done. Who but God c

ould pull off such a magnificent miracle as that? In our weakness, He makes us the perfect vessel.

God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called. Mark Batterson

Pray continually. 1 Thessalonians 5:17 NIV
Be still before God and wait patiently for Him. Psalm 37:7 NIV

You hear it often; we are asked to pray continually but to also be still and give God a chance to speak. I try hard to obey, but I confess, I often have so much to tell Him that I leave little time for listening. Sometimes, however, He stops me mid-sentence with a message I can’t ignore. That happened a couple of weeks ago when I heard the words, “listen for God” with a very crisp clarity. It’s easy for me to forget words and ideas if I don’t write them down but those words stayed imprinted in my mind and I had since chosen to address them in this week’s writing. Then, as often happens, last Saturday night at Focus Worship, Pastor Phil chose that very topic for discussion. That can’t be a coincidence. God really wants us to listen to what He has to say.

There are those among us who are gifted with the ability to clearly hear God’s words and occasionally, as in this case, it happens to me, but I believe that most of us receive countless little messages every day and don’t recognize them as words from God. I suggest that He doesn’t necessarily speak in the midst of our prayers as we wait, but often He speaks in the everyday busyness of life, perhaps when we least expect to hear from Him.

There was a time in my husband’s life when he was given a persistent nudge to walk across a square dance floor and speak to a very sad looking man. When he went to the man and learned of his troubles, Ken asked if the man had talked to Jesus about them. After their conversation, each man went his own way, but a few months later, they chanced to meet again, and the man told Ken that he had planned to take his own life that very night when they had talked. Instead, he turned to God and everything in his life had turned around and he was filled with hope for the future.

Not every story is so dramatic, and we often don’t know what happens when we follow God’s nudges. Sometimes we aren’t even aware that we’ve been nudged toward another person for any specific reason. Things just happen during our everyday tasks that impact others. I recall a day when I was waiting at a pharmacy to ask a question and another lady was waiting alongside me. This lady was clearly stressed and so I began a casual conversation just to relieve her mind of whatever was troubling her. She then began to tell me that she was caring for her husband who was very ill and was anxious to get back to him. Mercifully, the pharmacist brought her prescriptions quickly and she turned to leave. I told her that I hoped her husband would be better soon. She said that wouldn’t be happening. My response was simply, “then I wish you peace”. She said her thanks and for the briefest of moments a fleeting smile crossed her face, and I knew that she had been touched by the hand of God through my words. But those words were not mine, they were His. I was just the instrument He chose to deliver them. This long-ago incident was but a moment in my personal history, yet it imprinted my heart with a profound message that altered an important perspective of my spiritual life and, ever so slowly, has brought a change in my approach to prayer. I’ve never forgotten that someone found a moment of peace because I had followed a nudge from God, and by accident or His design, I began to understand the implications of keeping my heart open to hearing His still, small voice.

I like to think of His words to me as gentle nudges, little reminders that I am His and I need to help Him take care of His people. Sometimes I’m busy with something else and don’t want to take the time to do as I’m asked. And then the nudge becomes a little more obvious. Sometimes I’m really hard of hearing and he has to hit me with the proverbial 2 x 4 to get my attention! I want to believe that my listening skills are becoming more acute, but I still have many moments of selective deafness.

PS: As this writing ended, I opened a weekly inspiration email from Guideposts and was greeted with the title, “He responded to a Nudge from God”. The article told of an architect who went into a closed business in preparation to renovate for a new client. The former business was a bankrupt photo studio left as it had been on its last day of activity. Family photos lay everywhere, some with information about the clients and some without. The architect gathered his family and gained permission to take the photos in an attempt to reunite them with their subjects. As of the writing, they had been able to return 60 of 105 portraits and heard some very touching stories along the way. COVID slowed them down but they didn’t quit. They just had to alter their methods a bit to maintain safety. If you’d like to read the story, go to www.guideposts.org/bononi and click on “they matched abandoned photos”.
Nudges can happen anytime and to anyone…just open your heart.