Faith & Family

Fred was dead.

Fred was a Boston fern that had survived ten years happily beautifying our front porch in the summer and then wintering in the house hanging in a window. In the past decade, Fred and his companion Fran, also a Boston fern, had grown to a luxurious size. Neither had shown any previous problem wintering in the house.

Fran was still very much alive—bright green and a forest of leaves. But poor Fred had not made it through this past winter. My wife Charlotte, who has the green thumb in the family, had scoured for signs of life, going down into the roots and looking for even a hint of green. All she found were the brown and brittle remains of a once-thriving plant.

What was the difference between Fred and Fran? Fran had wintered in my office window. She received daily misting, weekly watering, and a couple of fertilizer boosts. She was perfectly happy.

On the other hand, Fred had spent the cold months in our grandson's bedroom, hanging in an east-facing window. Despite Caleb's being given a misting spray bottle and a watering can, poor Fred quickly fell to the bottom of his priority list. And then fell off the list altogether.

Now, in Caleb's defense, he is a live-at-home college freshman who also works nearly twenty-five hours a week serving fast-food burgers. He has plenty on his plate, and, except for poor Fred, he balances it pretty well. Still, fifteen seconds a day of misting and a couple of minutes a week of watering doesn't seem like it would be all that overwhelming. Fred would probably agree.

Actually, in a way, I'm just like Fred the fern. My Christian heart and mind also need daily misting and watering, except mine comes from the Word of God. I desperately need that daily immersion in God's perfect Word. I need the misting of God's love in my spirit and the watering that comes from the Lord's constant, never-ending presence. Like poor Fred, without it, my proverbial leaves, stems, and roots will become brown, brittle, and dead.

Open the Word and renew your heart and mind today.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and inonoyazy.)

A very ancient movement exists today, a movement to worship Mother Earth.

Hoping to have a heightened spiritual experience, people try to connect with spirits they believe inhabit trees and animals. They see all life as having value, feelings, and intelligence, and they worship it, not the One who designed and cares for it.

In contrast, some believe animals are dumb beasts, simply useful for work or experiments in science. This makes me sad. But others are fascinated by the wildlife God created. They study and film birds, butterflies, lions, giraffes, gorillas, and monkeys. Some dedicate their lives to rescuing abused, abandoned, or unwanted cats, dogs, donkeys, horses, and even sheep. I know a woman who lives in near poverty because she cares for a dozen cats in her trailer home as a foster mom until someone adopts them.

One thing is true: God loves His animals. He rebuked Job with testimonies of His passion for caring for the creatures He created. He praises another for allowing the sparrow to nest by God’s altar, and Jesus declared that not one sparrow falls outside the Father’s care.

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying: “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” This verse in Revelation delights me. At a time when many mock and despise Jesus, the creatures He created sing forth His worship. Let’s join them.

Think of some ways you can show appreciation for God’s creatures. 

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and susannp4.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

One day when driving to visit my mother, I watched a simple four-hour drive turn into a fiasco.

Pouring rain hit near Portland—one of those gushers where you can hardly see in front of you. Maybe that’s why I missed the usual turnoff to avoid traffic. Several wrecks then slowed driving to a snail’s pace. I was thankful to be safe but anxious to be on my way.

Unfortunately, by not changing lanes in time, I headed for downtown Portland. Following the signs, I drove and drove without finding the freeway. After asking directions, I turned around and found an on-ramp in minutes.

Thirty minutes later, I breathed a prayer of thanks. The following two hours were uneventful. It was already dark, but I would be in my mother’s living room in forty minutes. The first North Bend sign came up, and I anxiously awaited the exit—but for some reason, drove right past it. (Should I blame the audiobook I listened to?)

I was just about to give it all up for a good cry, but a full moon loomed overhead. At least that made the night a little brighter, and I felt less alone with the moon smiling down on me—laughing, perhaps. But I knew I was not alone. God was with me and looked out for me. I prayed for safety and pulled off the freeway to turn around. A few minutes later, I once again headed for Mom’s, this time taking the correct exit.

Occasionally, we all do something that makes us feel stupid, frightened, or uncertain. But one thing is sure—we are never alone.

I wasn’t alone on that dark, rainy night, but I had to remind myself of that fact. I am not alone today, sitting at the computer or when temptation strikes or a challenging day discourages me. To doubt God’s presence is to mistrust God and call Him a liar. God's promise to Joshua is His promise to us.

Take some measured steps that will help you take God at His Word.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and 453169.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

My four-year-old granddaughter followed closely behind me one afternoon as I pulled weeds from my flower beds. Her small hands grasped the ugly nuisances right along with mine. After we had gathered a small pile of weeds to throw away, Selah asked, “Nana, why do you pull the weeds?” Although I’m retired, the teacher in me came out. This was a teachable moment.

I described how rapidly weeds grow and how they can get so big they will choke out the pretty flowers. I also explained how flowers look prettier without the weeds hanging around them.

“Selah, did you know our hearts are like flower beds and get weeds too?”

She frowned. “No, what do you mean, Nana?”

“Well, when our hearts are full of love, kindness, and obedience, they are like a pretty flower garden for God. But when we say bad words, don’t tell the truth, or disobey, we grow weeds in our hearts. It’s just as important to pull the weeds out of our hearts as it is out of Nana’s flower beds.”

I smiled when Selah took her hand and felt her heart under her shirt as if she wanted to pluck heart weeds right then and there. Ahh, the innocence of a child.

Adult weeds might be bitterness, hate, selfishness, deception, gossip, entitlement, or complacency. The spiritual weed list is quite lengthy. Even so, the more we cultivate our heart gardens by eliminating sinful attributes, the more our spiritual flowers of love, forgiveness, grace, patience, and hospitality will grow lovelier, and the peace of God will rule in our hearts.

What spiritual weeds do you need to pluck from your heart?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and summa.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

He sat on the porch in tears holding an Easter egg. “It’s broke.”

My youngest son was four and didn’t understand that plastic eggs break open—usually to offer a surprise. He held up two pieces of a red egg, his tears dripping.

“Some things are meant to be broken. Look what fell out of your broken egg.” I handed him a candy kiss. “See.”

He smiled as he took the candy.

At age ten, that same boy dropped a plastic egg on my lap. “Mom, remember when I cried because my Easter egg was broken?”

I nodded yes.

“My Sunday school teacher told us Jesus was not meant to have any broken bones when He died.”

“That’s what Scripture tells us. Not one of His bones will be broken. The book of John proves that.” I smiled he’d even remembered the broken egg.

“I guess Jesus was a good egg.” He giggled.

When John penned his epistle, we see him at the foot of the cross, standing by Jesus until the bitter end. He probably didn’t realize he’d be the last living disciple—the final witness. He’d walked, studied, and preached with Jesus during Jesus’ entire three-year ministry. John knew and served the Messiah. He saw before his eyes the Scripture fulfilled in and through Jesus. John could verify everything Scripture said that Christ is “truth.” Even that not one of His bones was broken so that Scripture would be fulfilled. John saw it all.

At the death of Christ, so many things were in play that we sometimes miss the extended significance. Jesus died for our sins. Salvation came through Him. We may not have walked physically with Jesus as John did, but we are still His living witnesses to His sacrifice and truth.

As we celebrate this Easter season, remember it’s not just a one-day celebration. It’s a life-long celebration. Lift your hands, sing hallelujah, and praise His name, for the Truth who came to earth as a man was sacrificed on our behalf and raised in victory over death. Not a bone was broken. Be a witness to this truth. You can, as in the words of a child, proclaim that “Jesus was a good egg.”

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and jatocreate.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)