Faith

Why My Word for 2015 is Actually a Name – Carla

I know, it’s a little weird that my word of the year is a name, but there’s a good reason for that.

See, when my friend Carla died on November 17, 2014, I issued the Carla Dysert Challenge. At the time, I was trying to come to terms in my friend’s sudden death. I needed to find meaning in it – not for her death to just be a senseless tragedy. So, I challenged people to do what Carla did – to listen to what God said, look for the opportunities He showed her and then to obey.

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A little over a month down the road, and I was staring at the end of the year with no idea of what my word for 2015 should be. I’ve been doing the one word challenge for several years now, and usually, long before the end of December rolls around, my word for the next year seems obvious.

It wasn’t this year. There were possibilities and glimmers of the path God wanted me to walk this year, but it wasn’t exactly clear.

Throughout the last few months, God has been showing me the importance of prayer. That phrase – the importance of prayer – seems so worn and mundane. But it’s like God has opened my eyes to the desperate need I have for prayer in my life. Of the huge power that I was missing in my life without dedicated prayer time.

Yet, Prayer really wasn’t the word.

I started thinking about how prayer was at the center of everything, like a pebble thrown into a pond – the ripples just kept going. So, I thought maybe Still would be my word because it all starts with being still and knowing He is God.

But Still wasn’t quite right either.

Because prayer, while vital and essential, can become a crutch to not act. It’s really easy to pray and to listen and to hear God, but then do nothing.

There is this really interesting part of the story of the parting of the Red Sea. In Exodus 14:15, the children of Israel are standing at the shore of the Red Sea with the Egyptian army heading their way. They are completely terrified and believed they are going to die.

Moses is trying to reassure them and tells them, “The Lord will fight for you while you keep silent.”

There was certainly prayer, but God wanted them to move already. In verse 16, God says to Moses (you can almost hear His exasperation in the text), “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the sons of Israel to go forward. As for you, lift up your staff and stretch your hand over the sea and divide it and the sons of Israel shall go through the midst of the sea on dry land.”

God did His part -He gave Moses the ability to divide the sea and He hardened the Egyptians’ hearts so they would go after the Israelites, but in order for God’s miracle to work, the Israelites had to actually move.

Being still, listening to God, praying – all those things are only part of the equation. We have to actually DO what God is telling us. We have to ACT on His instruction.

Yet Move or Do or Act didn’t seem right either.

As I was praying about my word a few days ago, the name Carla came to my mind. Carla? I asked. That seemed a little weird because it’s not like my goal is to BE Carla. As awesome as Carla was, God has given us different gifts and abilities. She was an event planner extraordinaire. Me, not so much.

She also had the energy of a gerbil on speed, and if you ask anyone, I am definitely NOT high speed anything!

Yet, the name Carla reminds me of the things I want to be true in my life. Like Carla, I want to be a woman of prayer and of the Word. I want to start at the feet of Jesus, to be still and listen. I want to walk through my days with my eyes and ears wide open to God’s still small voice and the opportunities He places in my path.

I also want the courage, the boldness, to do what God asks me – even if it seems a little weird, sometimes.

I want to be brave enough to be foolish for God.

Some of my biggest weaknesses are procrastination and lack of follow through. That is not something I want to define my life in 2015. I remember Carla saying to me once that so many people talked about doing things but never actually did them. I don’t want that to be me!

The more I mulled over the name Carla, the more I felt a certainty that this was my word for 2015 because the name Carla reminds me of all the things I want to be true of my life.

It also gives me the opportunity to continue Carla’s legacy in my own small way – a way to remember the gift of her friendship and the way she challenged me and continues to even after her death. I guess that is the best kind of legacy to leave.

Blessings, Rosanne

 

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Family

Not the Christmas I Planned

It all started last Friday when I was out shopping. And I fell. On the only patch of ice in the entire mall parking lot because it was TOO WARM FOR ICE. Just call it a Christmas miracle – well, sort of, in a backwards type of way.

I managed to fold my left leg underneath me – which meant that my knee I had just finished doing physical therapy on for 6 weeks. All I could think of as I was lying there looking up at the cloudless blue sky was that at least it wasn’t January 1st when my deductible would start all over again!

On Sunday, my oldest son Brock said he felt congested, but we thought it was a cold. After taking his temperature that afternoon just to be on the safe side, we went to a Christmas cantata, and then he went off with his best friend to a youth group activity and to spend the night at said friend’s house.

The next day, he had a raging fever of 102.5.

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Yesterday morning, I was sound asleep when the phone rang around 8:30 a.m. I was so groggy, I could barely understand what my husband was saying on the phone, until he came back to bed to inform me that my dad was in the hospital due to chest pain.

Needless to say, I leaped out of bed and set a world record getting ready and out the door.

Then yesterday afternoon, I took the congested kid to the doctor, only to find out he had influenza A which meant someone was going to have stay home (i.e. me!) with him for the inlaw’s Christmas celebration unless said kid would make a miraculous recovery.

So, Christmas is not going like I planned. At all.

I couldn’t even go back up to sit with my mom and visit with my dad while he awaited bunches of tests on his heart because I didn’t want to accidentally infect him with the plague (i.e. influenza A). Seeing as he is still on chemo, this is a real concern.

Then my mother-in-law called this afternoon – AFTER I made the dessert for tomorrow – to say she had decided to postpone our Christmas until next week.

This was NOT the Christmas I had planned (and baked) for – I can’t remember a time we all stayed home for Christmas Eve AND Christmas day. Not since that year my husband had the stomach flu and I had to leave my parents’ house early because it hit me out of the blue, too. I think my kids were 5 and 2 at the time.

At the risk of sounding all schmaltzy, I’ve been less upset than I thought I’d be. In fact, I find myself feeling, well, thankful.

I mean, we WILL be doing Christmas with the extended family – just a bit later than planned.

My 13 year old and I went to see a movie this afternoon. He’s 13 and he STILL went with me to a movie. In public. I’m thankful he still wants to hang out with me.

My oldest son, the one with the flu, has actually had a very mild case. While he is congested and under the weather, he has not been completely miserable and that raging fever seems to be pretty much gone. Not to mention, this couldn’t have hit him at a better time – after his last game and a full 7 days before his next game and he doesn’t have to miss any school.

There’s never a good time to be sick, of course, but at least this is not as bad as it could have been. He might even be able to play on Saturday. I’m thankful both that his flu seems pretty mild and thankful for him as I know he’d hate to miss a game. Ever.

My dad went home today. Every test he had – EKG, Echo, blood tests and a stress test showed no new heart problems. For a man who has had his share of medical issues the last few years, it was a huge relief that he didn’t have to have a heart catherization – on his birthday! I’m thankful both that no new health crisis has cropped up and that he is still here to celebrate with. Cancer has a way of making your realize the brevity of life.

Tonight, we had a nice dinner together after weeks of eating in shifts due to practice schedules and games. We didn’t even have the television on. I’m thankful for that peaceful meal amid the bustle and hustle.

We sat down together and watched a movie when usually everyone is plugged into their own device. I’m thankful we could experience scary dinosaurs together. (Gotta love the Jurassic Park movies!).

Tomorrow, we get to sleep in as late as we want. We can open presents leisurely, watch more movies, play games and just enjoy each others company (well, enjoy my older son from a distance since we don’t want to catch his flu!). I’m thankful for that time to just be together without a schedule pressing in on us.

While I will missed my parents tonight and will miss my in-laws tomorrow, I am thankful we just have a postponement of the festivities. So many people this year are facing a Christmas knowing their loved one will never be present again.

While this is not the Christmas I planned on, it is a Christmas I am thankful for, nonetheless. After months of feeling like I have been nonstop running, God put a pause in my life, a pause to just breathe and enjoy my family. A pause to see all the blessings in my life.

For that, I am truly thankful.

Merry Christmas!

Rosanne

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Why We Need to Shut Up and Listen

When Michael Brown, Jr. was killed, there were a lot of opinions. A lot of voices. All of them shouting to be heard above the other. I even wrote a post about it myself. You can read it here.

When the verdict came down not to indict Darren Wilson, there were also a lot of opinions. A lot of voices The shouts to be heard were drowned out by the violence that erupted in the streets of Ferguson.

Businesses looted, burned. People hurt, arrested.

Ferguson, a smoldering ruin, a burning symbol of racial unrest in this country.

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As I have prayed about this, as I have wept over the divide between people just because of skin color, as I have begged God to bring a solution to all of this tragedy and violence, the one thing I keep hearing is, “Be quiet and listen.”

I didn’t really want to be quiet, to be honest. I had read everything I could get my hands on about the case. I had read testimonials and eyewitness accounts. I wanted all the facts before I made a judgment call on either Darren Wilson or Michael Brown, Jr. And then I wanted to talk about it, to write about it, to hash it all out.

While I wanted to be informed and right when I addressed this topic, what I missed at first is it really wasn’t about the facts of the case. I know, if you are sitting on the white side of the bleachers that’s a little hard to swallow. I mean, what does it mean it’s not about the facts?

The case of Michael Brown, Jr., was a symbol of a much bigger picture. A bigger picture that included a different set of facts, ones that I, as someone who is white, need to really see.

See, no matter what happened or didn’t happen between Michael Brown, Jr. and Darren Wilson, it doesn’t change the indisputable fact that a mother buried her son.

It doesn’t change the fact that a family will go through the holidays with a glaringly empty space around the table. That a stocking will hang empty.

It doesn’t negate the fact that women I call friends are afraid for their sons’ lives. They fear that a misunderstanding could escalate into a tragedy, and in the blink of an eye they too will have an empty space at the table. It doesn’t change the fact that they feel like their sons, their lives are expendable because their skin is dark, and nobody cares because of the perception that all black youth are criminals so they must deserve what they get. That fear haunts them every time their sons walk out the door.

I can’t imagine living with that kind of fear because I’ve never had to. But just because I have never experienced it, doesn’t mean that it isn’t very real for a whole lot of people every single day.

A couple of years ago, I heard Jill Briscoe speak at a women’s breakfast. She said a lot of great things, but the one thing that stuck with me was that others won’t listen to you unless they know you care about them, and they won’t know you care until you take the time to listen to them.

I am not disputing there are issues on both sides of this racial divide in our country. I’m not saying honest dialogue doesn’t need to happen, and there are some hard truths we ALL need to look at.

But, as I’ve said before, I feel strongly that as believers we need to lead in racial harmony. After all, as Paul said, there is no Jew or Greek, no slave or free, when it comes to the Gospel. The Gospel was all about being multicultural before it was cool.

That isn’t going to happen though, until we are willing to be still and listen to our brothers and sisters in Christ, to acknowledge their pain and their fear and their frustrations. Until that happens, there will be no peace.

Peace doesn’t come by proving our point or shouting out our opinions louder than someone else. It doesn’t even come by winning a debate. Sure, you may get some facts out. You might even “win” your case, but facts never made anyone feel loved.

So, before honest dialogue begins, we have to start with honest listening and true empathy and compassion. My African American friends should know I care more about them than about winning a point in the ongoing debate of what is the root cause of the racial problems and how to solve them.

Until they know I truly care, they won’t care what I think.

We will never get to the point of honest discussion and move toward a solution unless we are willing to lay aside our opinions, our facts, and our debate points and come alongside those who are hurting, who are afraid, who feel as if nobody hears them at all.

Because that is what Ferguson is really all about – years of not truly being heard. Years of the white community being defensive or telling the black community why they shouldn’t feel that way, that they shouldn’t fear when their experiences have taught them differently.

I don’t know about you, but nothing makes me feel less heard, less known than for someone to tell me how I shouldn’t feel.

At the risk of sounding cheesy and cliched, love really is the only way to make our way through this maze of racial tensions because fear is at the root of a lot of these issues.

As it says in I John 4:8, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”

It’s time our brothers and sisters of every color know we love them – enough to shut up and listen.

Blessings, Rosanne

 

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The Carla Dysert Challenge

When the phone rang this morning, I was sitting at my computer ready to start my day. It was a bit later than usual due to the school cancellation. It was just a normal Monday morning, if you discounted the amazing amount of snow for mid-November around here.

It’s funny how a simple phone call can rock your world.

At about 10:30 this morning, I found out my friend Carla Dysert had been killed in a car accident earlier that morning. The news washed over me in a tide of disbelief.

It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

I knew Carla very peripherally for years as she went to my church, but I started to know her better a few years ago when she began to periodically attend my Sunday school class. Then this summer, when I started volunteering at Guiding Light where she volunteered too, our friendship grew, as I got to know her more deeply.

(Carla is in the pink shirt)

Even hours after I learned of her death, I still am having a hard time believing she is really gone. I think it’s because she was one of those people who were so very alive.

I’ve spent most of today thinking about Carla and what she has meant in my life. I’ve shed a lot of tears – and I’m not much of a crier – as the reality of her loss has settled over me.

As I’ve thought about her though, one thing came clear to me – Carla challenged me. She challenged me by the way she lived. Carla didn’t read God’s Word and think it meant someone else. She believed it was directed at her, and unlike so many of us, she acted on it.

Carla was someone who did what God asked her to do, even if other people thought she was a little, well, odd. I remember her telling me about a time she felt God asking her to claim a college football field. She went down and walked every yard of that field, praying over it. Never mind that everyone thought she might be a little crazy. 🙂

Carla was a big believer in the power of prayer. Her prayer journals were an artistic wonder – notes, small drawings, glued on pictures of those she was praying for papered its pages. She wrote down what she learned from her Bible study times and what she felt God was telling her. She wrote down prayer requests and how God answered and came through. She felt so strongly about journaling, that she was always giving people journals of their own.

Many time, you could find her walking around buildings in downtown Lima, praying over that particular ministry. It didn’t matter to her that people driving by might wonder what in the world she was doing.

When Carla said she’d pray for you, she did. When Carla said she’d do something, she followed through. When Carla thought you were wrong, she told you.

As I cried off and on today, immeasurably sad that my friend was gone and thought about how crushed the many people she touched probably felt, it occurred to me that Carla would probably wonder why I was upset. I can envision her, her blonde head cocked to the side saying in her perpetually upbeat voice, “But Rosanne, why are you upset? God knew I was going to die today. God allowed that so it’s okay.”

And then she’d smile.

The thing that made Carla unique was that she was always listening for God’s voice and she didn’t just listen. She went out and did what He asked, too. She was always looking for the opportunities He put in her path and acting on them.

One of those ways was at her job. Carla worked a lot of hours at Primrose where she was the director, but the reason she spent long hours there wasn’t because she was a workaholic. It was because she spent her days meeting the Primrose residents’ needs, and waiting to do her work until later in the evening.

Carla was also a big believer in God’s Word. She wasn’t about denominations. She’d tell you it’s about God and what the Bible says. She wasn’t about physical church walls. You could find her at our Baptist church as soon as you’d find her attending a street church in the south side of Lima or joining a charismatic church on a mission trip. Carla was about loving people because Jesus loved people.

I’ll be honest and say I wish I understood why God took Carla home today. But I can’t. I wish I could tell you there was some greater purpose, but all I can think is, “It was too soon.”

But I want Carla’s death to mean something. I don’t want her death to just be a tragedy. I want it to call us all to action and to continue her legacy. So, I came up with an idea. I’m calling it the Carla Challenge, and I hope she would get a kick out of this.

The challenge is this – whatever it is you feel God telling you to do, just do it. Put it at the very top of your to do list. Don’t let busyness or fear or doubt or just feeling silly keep you from it. Whatever opportunity God places in your path, take the time to act on it.

Because if anything summed up Carla’s life, it was her ability to listen to what God was telling her, look for the opportunities He placed in her path and act in obedience. No questions. No hesitations. Just do it.

Will you take the Carla Challenge today and keep her legacy alive?

Blessings, Rosanne

 

 

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Family

There are No Guarantees in Parenting

I remember the first time I looked at my oldest son after he was born (well, the first time I actually remember after being knocked out for an emergency c-section). I remember being amazed that this tiny being had been in my stomach not that long ago, and then I gulped.

Why? Because I realized I was now responsible for keeping this little scrap of humanity alive. It felt like an incredibly weighty responsibility.

Before Brock was born, I read a ton of parenting books. I had a plan. Within a couple weeks of his birth, I learned the hard truth that children don’t always go along with their parents’ plan – no matter how well-intentioned they are.

Brock was born early and he had a lot of trouble feeding, so my idyllic vision of breastfeeding went out the window when I took him to the doctor for the second week and he was STILL losing weight.

I remember how crushed I felt to have failed this first test of motherhood. What kind of mom can’t feed her own kid? As someone who had always gotten A’s, this felt like a big fat F on my first mom report card.

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Then I kind of got over that first failure and Brock was such a great baby and toddler. He slept through the night and he didn’t throw tantrums. I could just explain why we did things a certain way, and, bless him, he’d look at me with those enormous blue eyes, nod his little golden head and I thought, “I have this mothering thing down!”

Then Brody came along, and everything I thought I knew went right out the window. While he got the whole breastfeeding thing without any problems, when he got to be a toddler, explaining things to him didn’t make a bit of difference.

I’d lean down and gently explain to him why we did or didn’t do something. He’d look at me – his brown eyes glinting with mischief, give me a big smile and enthusiastically go do just what I had told him not to.

He was also a champion tantrum thrower.  I left more than one store feeling humiliated, my head bowed in shame after Brody screamed all the way through the store. Once again I felt like I had earned a big fat F on my mom report card. I was sure everyone in that store thought I was the worst mom ever because of how my child was behaving. It didn’t matter that Brody’s tantrums netted him exactly nothing. It didn’t matter his cute little picture should have been next to the word “strong-willed” in the dictionary. Nope, what mattered was my child’s behavior directly reflected on me – his mom who was supposed to control said behavior.

God certainly used Brody to teach me humility and to teach me a truth that I think parents everywhere need to hear.

You can do all the right things as a parent and your child can still make poor choices or struggle or have problems.

The thing is, in this day and age of so many resources for parents, so many blogs and websites and books and radio programs, it can feel like there is a secret formula for parenting – one that we just haven’t managed to find yet. And if we can just get that formula right, our children will never have difficulties. They’ll never struggle. They’ll never make bad decisions.

But God is the perfect Father and look how His children act sometimes.

The thing is kids are little human beings with a free will. They make good choices and they make bad choices, and all of those choices are not a reflection of your parenting skills or lack thereof.

Of course, this doesn’t negate our responsibility as parents. God entrusts these children to us and we need to raise them up, with God’s help, to the best of our abilities.

But we also need to remember that our abilities will never BE enough in and of themselves, and whether our kids turn out great or not so great, it isn’t completely up to us.

I mean, I wish I could tell you that I have prayed for my children every day of their lives – but I didn’t.

I wish I could tell you I never lost my temper or yelled at them – but I can’t.

I wish I could tell you I was always the best example to them – but I wasn’t.

Both my boys are great kids. At 13 and 16, I am proud of the young men they are becoming. They’ve each had their individual struggles and difficulties, but they are turning into Godly young men that make my mama’s heart just about burst with the joy of it. But I certainly don’t feel like that I can take the credit for that.

I know plenty of moms – moms who were way more together than I have ever been and who loved their children and who were godly – whose kids have made bad choices and strayed from what they have been taught. I’ve looked into tear-filled eyes of moms wracked with guilt as they sift through their parenting years trying to figure out what they did wrong.

The truth is how our children turn out just isn’t all on our shoulders. If they serve God and follow hard after Him, we can’t take all the credit for that. Just as we can’t blame ourselves if they follow hard after the wrong things either.

See, here’s the thing, no matter how lovingly, how carefully you mold a piece of pottery, for it to be functional it has to go through the fire.

So, yes, absolutely do your very best as a parent, but set down the burden that it is all up to you. God works in each of our lives and He doesn’t waste anything – not the good or the bad – and that includes our children’s lives as well.

Blessings, Rosanne

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Family

Why the New Nicholas Spark’s Movie Is Worse than 50 Shades

In recent months, I’ve seen quite a few blog posts and articles shared on various social media outlets like Facebook about the controversial book being made into a film, Fifty Shades of Grey.

While I couldn’t agree more that women should avoid this movie like the plague, I haven’t seen much on another movie that just might be more dangerous to the minds and hearts of women everywhere.

See, Fifty Shades of Grey is pretty in your face about its values and thoughts on sex and relationships. It promotes some very unhealthy dynamics, but those dynamics are not really hidden in any way.

Nicholas Sparks’ new movie, The Best of Me, is a lot more subtle. On the surface, it looks like a sweet movie, maybe even a date movie for you and your hubby. I mean what’s not to like about true love that lasts the test of time?

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But the messages of this movie and others like it, are subtly undermining marriages because they set people up to fail.

If you aren’t familiar with Nicholas Sparks, he is the king of sweet romance books, many of which have been made into movies. You’ve probably heard of the movie, The Notebook, which was based on one of his books by the same name. (and yes, I watched it and yes, I cried at the end just like the rest of America!).

His latest book turned movie is The Best of Me. The plot is basically about high school sweethearts, Dawson and Amanda, who are separated by tragic events.  They are reunited 20 years later at a funeral of a beloved friend. Amanda, who is in a less than ideal marriage, indulges in an affair with Dawson before the two of them are parted tragically once more. This is pretty typical of Sparks, as his characters rarely have happy endings. In all of this, both Dawson and Amanda are portrayed very sympathetically and seem noble.

Amanda does have a difficult marriage. Her husband has drinking issues and is difficult to live with due to their daughter’s death. However, Sparks frames the story in such a way that it seems completely reasonable for her to have an affair with Dawson – since he was her true love and all. And of course, their love seems wonderful because it’s never really had to stand the test of every day life.

In these types of story, love is like some mystical Holy Grail, and if you are lucky enough to win the love lottery, you will meet “The One.” Once you meet “The One,” your life will change. Suddenly, you will feel complete. Your life will have purpose. Your love – because it is true love  and he is your soul mate – will conquer all.

All that sounds wonderful doesn’t it? You are probably wondering why I am being so bah humbug about true love. Well, I’ll tell you. While this is fine for movies or books, it doesn’t work so well in real life. What happens is the inevitable – those first ooey, gooey romantic feelings wear off. You might even feel – gasp! – unhappy in the midst of the reality of picking up dirty socks or financial difficulties or discovering your husband thinks you will be spending all holidays with his family.

In times past, people just sort of sucked it up and made it work, but in today’s society, true love is the ideal. Finding true love trumps the more boring commitment to your marriage, especially if you aren’t feeling so happy and fulfilled.

So, if you are unhappy the doubt comes in that maybe, what you’re dealing with is NOT the realities of married life over the long haul, but you just picked the wrong person. He must not be “The One.” Because if he was, surely your life would have a lot more rainbows and unicorns than it currently does.

This message that infidelity is okay if the circumstances are right is subtle and all the more dangerous for that subtleness. Unlike Fifty Shades of Grey which hits you in the face with its immoral message of anything is okay for an orgasm, movies like The Best of Me, frame immorality and sin in a way that makes “true love” and “fulfilling yourself” a worthy, almost noble goal.

It negates the hard work a good marriage entails by making it seem that if you are truly soul mates, a lifelong love will just come naturally.

It’s interesting to note that the vast majority of famous “great loves” all died pretty early into the process – you know, before they experienced the dirty socks on the floor, being up all night with the baby or the reality of you with the stomach flu.

While “being in love” is a wonderful feeling, true love is NOT just a feeling. It is a choice – sometimes, a hard choice.

We do our newly marrieds a disservice not to be honest that even if you love your spouse, even if you have a strong relationship, there are going to be days when they get on your last nerve. There are going to be days when you wonder if you made a mistake or when that suave guy at the office looks more appealing.

The thing is, marriage is really NOT about making you happy. It is about making you holy. Movies like the Best of Me give a false picture of what true love really is.

What lies have you bought into about love and marriage? I’d love to hear how God opened your eyes to them!

Blessings, Rosanne

 

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Faith

Day 25 – Rhoda

You might not be familiar with Rhoda in the Bible. While her appearance is limited to two verses, it is a story that always makes me smile.

You can find the story in Acts 12: 13-15. “When he knocked at the door of the gate, a servant-girl named Rhoda came to answer. When she recognized Peter’s voice, because of her joy she did not open the gate, but ran in and announced that Peter was standing in front of the gate. They said to her, “You are out of your mind!” But she kept insisting that it was so. They kept saying, “It is his angel.”

Just for a little background. Herod had started to persecute Christians. He had James put to death and when he saw it made the Jews happy, he arrested Peter. His plan was to execute him as well. The Christians gathered together to pray fervently for Peter and for his release.

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Peter was in jail and between four squadrons of guards when an angel came to him. Peter was sleeping so soundly, the angel had to shake him awake. The angel led him out of the prison, and Peter found his way to the home of this gathering of Christians who were praying.

Little Rhoda was a servant girl (don’t you love that God chose to record the name of a serving girl in the Bible?) opens the gate and she is SO excited to see Peter that, instead of letting him in, she basically slams the gate in his face.

She runs in to tell everyone that Peter is there and he’s released. Nobody believes her and insist that she is crazy, but she insists. Meanwhile, Peter continues knocking on the door until someone finally let’s him in after ascertaining that he is not, in fact, an angel.

I love that the only one who believes that God answered their prayers was Rhoda, a serving girl. It’s such a great story of a simple faith. Rhoda didn’t need to be convinced. They had prayed and God had answered. The proof was Peter standing at the door.

I also love her exuberant joy in answered prayer. There is no hesitation at all – just an overwhelming joy.

I can learn from that. So many times, I am hesitant to believe God has, indeed, answered my prayer. I wonder if I am reading into something or there is another shoe waiting to drop. I can learn a lot from Rhoda’s simple, exuberant faith. How about you?

Blessings, Rosanne

 

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Faith

Day 24 – Lydia

Lydia is only mentioned a few times in the New Testament and one of those was at her conversion. You find the story in Act 16:14.

“A woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple fabrics, a worshiper of God, was listening; and the Lord opened her heart to respond to the things spoken by Paul.”

I love that Lydia was the very first European convert. I love that God opened her heart to respond to the things Paul spoke and the first person whose heart He opened was a woman.

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From the verse, we know a couple things about Lydia. She was a seller of purple fabric so she was probably a woman of prominence and wealth. For one thing, purple dye was expensive and purple fabric would have been considered a luxury item. She also invited foreign men into her home and there is no man mentioned. It’s commonly thought she was a wealthy, well-connected widow.

The second thing we notice is that she was a worshiper of God. She acknowledged who He was but she didn’t know about Jesus.

I think there is a key thing we can learn from Lydia though.  You’ll notice it says that the LORD opened her heart, and she responded.

In order to respond to what we hear, we have to let God open our hearts. It’s easy to keep our heart closed or to let it get hard or even calloused.

There is so much going on in this world, it’s easy to not even hear when God is whispering our names, but Lydia was ready. She already worshiped God. She was primed for the next step – to respond.

How is your heart these days? Is it soft and easy for God to open?

Blessings, Rosanne

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Faith

Day 23 – Mary

Yesterday, we talked about the story of Martha, but the other main player in that story was Mary. Mary was the one who got it right in the story.

Again the story is recorded in Luke 10:38-42. Isn’t it interesting that a story with such impact only takes up five verses?

“Now they were traveling along, He entered a village and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet listening to His word. But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.” But the Lord answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha you are worried and bothered by so many thing; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

Yesterday, I also confessed that, out of a weird mix of good intentions and pride, I’ve over committed myself this fall season. It wasn’t until I took a page out of Mary’s book that I even realized why I was so stressed and out of sorts.

I had been finishing up a study by Kay Arthur on spiritual warfare. As I got to the last week’s work (hurrying to get done, of course, because I had the Nehemiah thing getting ready to start!), there was a huge emphasis on prayer as an offensive spiritual weapon. It seemed everywhere I turned over the course of two weeks emphasized the importance of prayer.

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Oswald Chambers in his book My Utmost for His Highest says, “Prayer does not equip us for greater works— prayer is the greater work.”

In Colossians 4:12 it says of Epaphras that he was “always laboring earnestly for you in his prayers, that you may stand perfect and fully assured in all the will of God.”

I often think the outward work of doing is what God wants me to do, but what Mary did – sitting at the feet of Jesus, is what we do figuratively when we pray.

Last Wednesday, I decided I was just going to pray. I wasn’t going to look at the clock or anything else on my to do list. I was just going to pray until I was done -not because the clock said I was but because I had been fully present before God until HE was done.

Two and a half hours later, I got up from the couch, gathered my 3×5 cards with my verses and people’s prayer requests and started my day. It was later than I had intended, but suddenly I had some answers as to why I had been feeling blue and out of sorts.

Please don’t think I’m trying to come across as uber spiritual because I prayed one day for a long time. Honestly, that probably won’t be a daily or even weekly occurrence, but that day, I needed it. I needed to not be busy with all these things and just be still.

Mary knew this secret. She knew that her strength came, not from bustling about and doing, but by sitting and being with Jesus.

Mary didn’t always get it right though. When her brother Lazarus died, it was Martha that went out to talk to Jesus. It was Martha who stated her faith that even now, she believed Jesus could do anything. It was Martha who declared that she believed Jesus was the Christ, the very Son of God. Obviously, she was no longer distracted or busy with many things. She had figured out the most important thing.

Meanwhile, Mary was back in the house. Martha tells her that Jesus wants to see her and Mary hurries out to Him.

When she sees Him, she once again ends up at His feet, this time weeping, saying, “My brother would have lived if only You had come earlier.”

Several times in this passage it says that Jesus was deeply moved. Mary’s pain was especially moving to Him. Even though Mary hurt and she didn’t understand, she still found herself back at the feet of Jesus and it was there that she found His compassion.

God knows I need the obvious because the subtle usually flies under my radar (being busy and all!), and He led me to this story of Mary and Martha, right when I needed to read it again.

While there is definitely a time for action when God directs us to do something, the thing we can learn the most from Mary (and Martha) is that our doing is an overflow of our abiding.

When was the last time you slowed down enough to just be with Jesus?

Blessings, Rosanne

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Faith

Day 22 – Martha

Martha is one of the more interesting women we meet in the New Testament, and I think she kind of gets a bum rap a lot of times. Martha, her sister Mary and her brother Lazarus were all friends and followers of Jesus. We find twice in Scripture. The first is in Luke 10 which is probably the most well-known, and the second is in John 11, when Jesus raised her brother Lazarus from the dead.

In Luke, we find Jesus and the disciples were traveling again.  The story is written in Luke 10:38-42.

“Now they were traveling along, He entered a village and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet listening to His word. But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.” But the Lord answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha you are worried and bothered by so many thing; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

I’ve read this story and heard numerous lessons and sermons on the Mary/Martha story. There are a lot of things I could talk about, but quite honestly, this story hits home for me at a much more personal level. It’s interesting that God had me get to this particular story when I did because I need Jesus’ words today just as much as Martha needed them all those centuries ago.

See, I get Martha because lately, I’ve definitely been “distracted with all my preparations.” I’ve beeen worried and bothered by so many things, all while missing the one necessary thing that Mary got.

 

Lady Looking At Books Shows EducationSee, I’m not sure how it happened, but this week, it has hit me square between the eyes that I have over committed myself. Like Martha, I meant well. I wanted to help and to do the right thing, but in the process of inviting all these commitments into my life, I found myself getting worried and bothered by so many things that the thing or I should say the Person that was reason for doing any of it in the first place was getting pushed out of His place.

I have taught Sunday school for years now. I love it and I love the women who come to my class. It’s a good thing. I also started to volunteer to teach weekly at a place called Guiding Light. The Wednesday night meeting is called Girl Talk and it includes not just the young pregnant girls that shelter there but also women who come from a low security prison. I love it and I’ve come to care about these women who are fighting for a second chance at life. It’s a different kind of teaching and I love ministering to these women.

In September, I had something every single weekend, except one, and also a great conference I went to the first weekend of October. Again, all good things, but I was starting to feel the pressure and was looking forward to a few weekends without scheduled events.

I am also in the process of ramping up my freelancing career and decided to take a rather intense writing class through the month of October, and then because you know, I didn’t have enough to do, I also decided to do the 31 day blogging challenge about the women in the Bible. Of course, during the past 3 weeks, I’ve had more tech problems than I’ve had in the last year!

And just to top it all off, I’m also on the women’s ministry committee at my church. Again, this is something I enjoy because I am passionate about women knowing God more intimately. So, when we organized new Bible studies for the fall, I agreed to co-teach a class which started Oct. 9 (I actually couldn’t come because I had to sub for a couple of days). To be honest, even though I am enjoying getting to know some new ladies and I’m loving the study on Nehemiah by Kelly Minter, it was one commitment too many.

If I can be really honest, it was my pride that caused me to say yes. It sounds so spiritual to say that you teach 3 Bible studies a week, doesn’t it? It sort of scratched that itch I sometimes get that I am just not doing enough for God and if I just add one more thing He’ll be so pleased with me.

The problem was, like Martha, I was so busy serving and bustling around, I was stressed out and my relationships have started to show some wear and tear. I’m normally pretty compassionate, but I’ve found myself in shorter supply because I’ve been too busy.

I haven’t seen my parents in probably three weeks – because I’m so busy. I have my nose stuck in the computer or in a stack of magazines or in Bible study commentaries and have had to tell my kids to go away – because I’m so busy.

I found my quiet times getting shorter and shorter as I rushed through my studies and told God that I just didn’t have time to pray too long that day – because I’m so busy.

Like Martha, I was looking at Jesus saying “Can’t you get someone to help me over here?” Instead, He was looking at me and like Martha, gently admonishing me,” Rosanne, Rosanne, you are bothered and worried about so many things, but only one thing is necessary and you are missing out by rushing from one thing to another.”

His gentle admonition was accompanied by an invitation, and I’ve decided to accept.

While I have to fulfill my commitments over the next few months, I’ve made a firm decision to say “no” to anything else right now. It’s time to stop being distracted with all my preparations and instead choose the better part.

What is God asking you to say no to today?

Blessings, Rosanne

 

 

 

 

 

 

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