What's you fortune?

Well you might have noticed that I haven't posted in awhile. These last couple of weeks have been quite busy, between my crazy schedule, my computer not cooperating on a regular basis, and moving I've had very little time to post. But by Sunday, the moving will be done, my schedule will be almost back to normal, and well so far my computer isn't giving me too much trouble! :)

I've been having mixed emotions lately about what I want to share and that has also caused me to shy away from posting. I don't want to be the person who is always complaining or always struggling, but I also want to be real. And so I've hesitated to post anything, using my busyness as an excuse to be silent.

I've been struggling with being overwhelmed. I am busy 7 days a week and I'm not complaining, but I do find in my busyness the first thing that tends to go is my Bible Reading time, and then because I feel guilty about not reading my prayer life can sometimes, but not always, wane. And I've been feeling defeated and although I know what I need to do, I was convincing myself I just don't have the time. This is not good!

Last week I took one of our residents where I work out on a one-on-one. We went out to dinner and then went Christmas shopping. This resident is one of my favorites (but don't tell anyone). We went out to dinner at the Chinese buffet and I have a little tradition whenever I go with someone, not to pick my own fortune. Now I don't put stock in them and think they hold the answers, but there have been times where they've reminded my of God's truths. So when the bill came I asked the kid I was with to pick his fortune, thereby also picking mine. He opened his fortune and it said, "Romance will change your direction." What a thing a 12 year old boy wants to hear right? Wrong. Well, I thought, I wish that one had been mine! I opened mine, ate my cookie, then read my fortune: You were made to be a champion. Wow, in that little cookie God so clearly reminded me that I was not to walk around defeated that He had made me a champion.

The Bible says that we are Victorious! Not because of anything we have done, but because God has already won the war! I had forgotten some of my favorite verses in my defeated state.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: 'For Your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.' Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35-39.

In my distress I had forgotten that I was not to be walking around defeated, I am MORE THAN A CONQUEROR! But not on my own or in my own strength, but through Him who loves me! When I try and accomplish life in my strength I can quickly become overwhelmed, and distressed, and defeated. And that's exactly what the enemy wants. He wants me to take my eyes off of the One who loves me and put them on myself. Why? Because then I am an easy target! When my eyes are on me, and my strengths, and my gifts, and my work I forget the One who called, the One who gifted me, the One who has made me more than a conqueror. And I'm glad that even in my state of shame, He used a stupid cookie to remind me of His Word.

This is why it's so important spending time "hiding" God's Word in our heart. If I had never memorized those verses, God would have had a hard time reminding me that I am more than a conqueror. He might have been able to use an old message or something like that, but my confidence doesn't come from what I've heard the pastor say, but from what I've read and memorized and learned from God's Word for myself. We need to develop personal relationships with God, because the only thing that will get you through the times of feeling defeated will be what you know to be true about the God that you serve.

So maybe like me you've been walking through the valley and trying to make it on your own. Trying to prove to God that you can do this job that He's given you. Maybe your thinking to prove yourself to Him. Let me share with you what I'm learning, as long as you do it on your own you will be defeated. Look to the Author and Finisher of your faith. Remember that He who began the work in you will be faithful to finish it. Somewhere along the line I took over writing the story that God began. Let me tell you, that because of that this chapter isn't looking so hot, God is the Author of my story, and I must stay in communication with Him. The only way to do that is by reading my Bible and praying and not when I have time, but on a daily basis. I must keep my relationship with the Lover of my Soul strong, because that is how I will be the champion that God is calling me to be.

So what's your fortune? You were also made to be a champion! Will you trust God today to finish the work He began, will you like me realign yourself with God's plan for your life. Believe me, it makes all the difference!

Steal My Show

Every time I hear this song lately it gets stuck in my head. Toby Mac's Steal My Show. I stopped and looked and listened to the lyrics and how many times do we get in God's way? How many times do we scheme and plan and then ask God to bless our plans? When really it's His Show! We are just the back-up singers in His performance. We need to be getting our direction, our lines, our everything right from the Director. The only way we can know our lines, our role, our place on the stage is by spending time with Him. Don't make the mistake of setting up your stage and casting the roles and then asking God to play second fiddle. It won't work that way! Allow God to steal your show, and then allow yourself to surrender completely to the Director and see the awesome job He does. You won't be disappointed!

Jesus is the Reason for the Season

As I've gone about my days these last few weeks, it's easy to get caught up in the festivities. Most of the time I can't stand this time of year. Shocking I know! I'm not going to explain this right now, because these last few weeks I've been reminded of some simple truths I would like to share with you.

I was saddened the other day when I asked my 5 year old nephew whose Birthday was coming and he said, "Santa." Then I asked why do we have Christmas, and he said, "Santa comes to bring us presents." Nathan went to a Christian preschool, has parents that love the Lord, and only three and a half months into his public school education has forgotten Jesus is the reason for the season.

I heard a parent telling a child, "Santa only comes for good boys, so you have to behave." And that's when the first truth hit me: Jesus came for the naughty children of the world. Jesus stated, "i have come to seek and save the lost" and "I have not come to call the righteous (the good people), but sinners unto repentance." The Bible goes on to tell us that "while we were yet sinners (naughty) Christ died for us!" Santa only comes for the good girls and boys, but Jesus, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, came for the rest of us!

Don't get me wrong I like Christmas and enjoy singing songs about Santa, in fact one lead me to my next truth.
     You better watch out
     You better not cry
     You better not pout
     I'm telling you why
     Santa Claus is coming to town

     He's making a list,
     Checking it twice;
     Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.
     Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa keeps a Naughty and Nice list! Santa keeps a record of our wrongs. But the Bible says love keeps no record of wrong! So really there are two truths here. First the Bible says in Psalms, God "has removed our sins as far as the east is from the west." God in His perfect love keeps no record of our wrongs. When we ask for forgiveness and we repent, God remembers them no more! That is amazing so not only does He not keep a list, but He truly loves us, since "Love keeps no record of wrong."

So as you go about the hustle and bustle of this season. Take time to remember that Jesus, the babe born in a manger, the Christ that hung on a cross, the Savior that rose undefeated from the grave is the reason for the season. And if He hadn't come, there would be no CHRISTmas! Presents are nice, trees smell good (if you can smell), family gatherings are interesting, but without Christ we would have no reason to celebrate. So remember to be thankful for the best present of all: Jesus.
Savior
Lord
Prince of Peace
Lion of the Tribe of Judah
Lamb of God
Bread of Life
The Way, the Truth, and the Life
Living Water
Good Shepherd
Healer
Deliverer
Refuge
I am that I am!

All that you need He is, not only this time of year, but all year long. Jesus is the Reason for the Season!

Living on Ketchup

I feel like the last couple of weeks I've lived on ketchup... not the wonderful red condiment that as a kid without refined taste I put on everything (now the condiment of choice is ranch). But on catch up. Do you ever feel that your days are racing away from you? That should you even take a moment to breathe the day would be over? How do we get out of this crazy vortex? I know some of it is my life, but some of it is my choices.

I love helping people and doing things for others. And I don't regret what I do at all!! But sometimes I wish I could just have time to be and not do. I want to just sit and listen, and not necessarily have to run. I have had the blessing of two weeks in a row of having 10 hours of sleep on a Friday night. I go to sleep about 8pm and don't wake until 6:30 Saturday morning. Want to know something, other than not getting a chance to post my Fiction Friday I don't feel guilty. I think "wow that felt good."

Last week I was so frustrated with life that I sat down and drew a plate. The plate I then divided into 7 sections. I labelled each section a day of the week. Writing only what is definite each week, I nearly cried. My plate was nearly full and that didn't include babysitting, grocery shopping, doctor's appointments, or anything fun. That didn't include showering, or driving, or anything like that. I wanted to say see! See I'm so busy! And then I thought how did I get here? Well, I have to have a full-time job. And they needed someone to help at the pool. And I'm the Children's Ministry Director, so I have to be at church on Sundays and Wednesdays. And that's where I stopped. When did working at church become a "have to" instead of a "want to." When did I become so overwhelmed that I thought I just can't do this anymore? Pastor told me on Wednesday, "Well you know this isn't easy." I looked right at him and said, "I wish you would've told me that 13 years ago." And then I said, "Never mind, it wouldn't have changed anything, because you can't change the call of God."

And how true, we cannot (or should not lest we end up in the belly of a whale) run from the call of God. So did I miss posting my Thankful Thursday? Yes. But not because I'm not thankful, because I had such a wonderful day with my BFF that I was busy all day. And had many other things I wanted to say, like I'm thankful for Christmas cookies and grandma's recipe that always turns out better than the one you find online. And many other things. But I digress. I am super excited about my Fiction Fridays but as you can see I have failed yet again to post that on time. So what can I do with this busyness?

First I needed to evaluate it:
Can I cut anything?
Is anything interrupting my God time?
Am I running on empty?
What can I change?

Well at this moment I can't really cut anything, but I can allow myself to spend less time on frivolous stuff and more time with God. God doesn't promise and easy journey, but He does say "my yoke is easy and my burden is light." So if I'm feeling dragged down and burdened beyond capacity, if I feel like the world is flying past me, if I feel like I'm living on Ketchup. Then I need to look and see, did I add anything to the yoke God has given me. Have I taken time to spend time with the Prince of Peace, the lover of my soul? If I've added to what God wants, then I need to let it go. And if I've not spent time with my God, then that needs to be changed immediately!

So while I'm living on Ketchup, I also realizing there are some things I don't need to catch up. And so for the next few weeks I'm going to work on dropping the unnecessary burdens, because more than anything I want to be able to glorify God, and I can't do that by crawling around defeated from exhaustion! Thank you for listening to me as I walk through this journey!

Fiction Friday... 2 days late!

Well the last few weeks I hope you've enjoyed learning a little about the main characters. Please note this is a work in progress. The entire story hasn't yet been written. If you have suggestions please feel free to let me know.

Again, the disclaimer holds true. I hope you enjoy reading The Quartet.

The Quartet ~ Seara’s Story

Chapter 1

Seara brushed her hand along the top of her dresser, stopping to look at her graduation picture. Four girls smiled back at her. The Quartet they had named themselves, the summer before she entered Middle School. Nearly eleven years had past since that picture was taken. So much had changed in that time. Next to the first picture, stood a picture of her and Brian in their cap and gowns. Seara smiled at the memory, but refused to let herself go down memory lane.

Seara looked around the room she’d grown up in. Sighing, she moved to her suitcase to finish unpacking. Seara never imagined she’d be living in this house again. Seara wanted to scream. Neglecting the unpacking, Seara headed down the stairs. Her feet moved of their own volition seeking her private spot.

The leaves crunched beneath her feet as she crossed the path that led through her woods. She stumbled on new roots hidden beneath the fallen leaves. The path was overgrown by new life. The footprints of long ago were nearly worn away. Twilight cast long shadows winding down the path. While away she made a point to return here as often as she could: when life and work allowed. This was her solace. The one place where time stood still and the cares of the world melted away.

Reaching her hand out to feel the rough dark bark, her fingers slid through the unnatural crevices carved into her tree. She heaved a sigh. Twisting around, she fell backwards against her tree; the bark scratched her back as she slumped to the ground. Head in hands she listened to the soft sounds around her. Waiting for the pieces to fall together.

The murmur of children could be heard in the distance. Lifting her head, she saw four girls she once recognized. They were too far away to make out their words; however, their body language spoke volumes. The girls were carefree, fearless as they embarked on their journey into the woods. Their laughter ricocheted off the trees. The simple joy in their surroundings. Life was perfect and they were at peace.

“My daddy built me this tree-house.” The littlest said pointing toward her tree.

“It’ll be perfect for our meetings.” Said the dark-haired one.

“I brought my pocketknife.” Said the littlest, already beginning to pull it from her pocket.

“Peanut_” Scolded the tallest, presumably her sister, “You’re only to use that when dad’s around.”

“We could carve our names into the tree,” the dark-haired girl said, effectively stopping what would have surely become a battle, “or at least our initials.”

“Everyone always puts BFF.” The blonde-haired girl spoke up, “It’s in all the movies.”

Peanut looked around warily, then added in an almost shy voice, “Yeah, but I think they forget the second ‘F’ when they grow up.” The reality of this could be seen on the girl’s faces.

“I know,” said the blonde, “We could put BFN - Best Friends Now.”

The girls giggled at her, but in the end decided they would do whatever it took to remain Best Friends Forever. They also knew they needed a name for their newly formed club. After bouncing around several goofy names the tallest came up with one they all agreed on.

“How about The Quartet?” The tallest asked.

With that it was decided. The tallest, after a series of negotiating, retrieved the knife and carved their name and her initials into the tree. Each girl then followed suit. Peanut being the last took extra care to make her S as perfect as possible.

She watched the girls disappear into the mist that rose. Their laughter and school-girl chatter vanishing with them. Standing up, she dusted the leaves that stuck to her bottom. Swiping at a stray tear, Seara left her woods.

When had it all changed? All of a sudden they were all grown up heading in different directions. Sure they talked occasionally on the phone or over the Internet, taking time to get together over Christmas, and their annual vacation, but Seara could already see things were changing. Alyssa’s wedding three years ago, and Talli’s last year were changing their circle. Again Seara sighed, feeling the usual emptiness inside.

Not ready to go into the empty house Seara walked around the house, head looking up at the night sky. The thousands of stars both comforted her and made her feel insignificant. Sinking to her knees head in her hands Seara cried out.

“How? How am I to handle all of this? Why me? What am I to do? I’m so confused.” Seara sucked in a deep breath. Tomorrow she would head back to the hospital to visit her father. He wasn’t even sixty; and yet, the doctor had declared he had Alzheimer’s. On top of that her dad had just a heart attack. She had known he hadn’t been feeling well lately, but had no idea. If it wasn’t for grandma she didn’t know what she would do. Grandma had moved in with her dad five years ago shortly after grandpa passed away. Seara’s mom passed away the summer after Seara graduated high school. She had fought cancer for over six years, before it finally took her. Seara didn’t know how she would be able to handle this.

Sucking in a deep breath, swallowing the tears she refused to shed, she would press on as she always had. She would be strong for her family. She would make sure dad was taken care of, find a part-time job, and keep an eye on Grandma.

Car lights headed into the drive-way as Seara stepped onto the porch, Grandma was home. Seara took comfort in this. Walking to the car, Seara helped her grandmother into the house, ignoring her objections.

“Your dad is fine.” Grandma patted Seara’s hand, “The doctor said he should be able to come home by Monday.”

Seara ushered Grandma into the kitchen after making sure she was settled, Seara went to the coffee pot, pouring her grandmother a cup of black coffee and then adding a little cold water.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the Alzheimer’s?” Seara asked kindly. She knew she could be blunt with her grandmother. They had always had that kind of relationship.

“Your father wanted to tell you, Alyssa, and Michael all at once. Michael should be home for Thanksgiving.” Grandma smiled.

Michael was Seara and Alyssa’s biological half-brother. He had been placed with them in December of Seara’s sixth grade year. It had taken nearly two years before all of the paperwork had gone through for them to legally adopt him. Seara and Alyssa were ecstatic to have a baby brother. He was 4 days old when he had come to live with them.

*        *        *

Seara and Alyssa came running in the house. “Mom!” Alyssa shouted concern lacing her voice, “What are you doing home?”

Dad came around the corner. “Dad!” Seara squealed. It wasn’t often that their parents beat them home in the afternoons. Seara dropped her backpack on the couch and launched at her father. Even though Seara was in middle school, she still loved snuggling with her father and didn’t care what anyone else thought.

“Come sit down.” Dad said, guiding the girls into the family room. Alyssa and mom sat on the love seat, while Seara and dad sat on the couch. “How was school?”

“Good. No more school til next year.” Seara smiled. “I just wish it would snow!”

“How ‘bout you, Sis?” Mom asked Alyssa.

“Fine. Why are you guys home early?” Alyssa asked coming right to the point, worry arching her brow.

Mom and dad looked at each other. Dad nodded slightly to mom and mom started. “I got a call today at work. Michelle called. After she called me, I called your dad. We decided that if you girls were okay with it we would take this placement.”

“Who is it? How old are they? Will they be here for Christmas? This is so exciting.” Seara rattled off.

“Hey, Peanut.” Dad gently broke into her chatter, “Let mom and I finish okay.” Mom nodded and dad went on, “You know we haven’t been taking placements recently because your mom’s not been feeling well, but we decided that we would take this one. It’s a boy. He’s only a couple days old." Dad paused, "He’s your brother.”

Seara and Alyssa sat in silence.

“You’re biological mother had a baby. But she can’t keep him, she was on all kinds of drugs when she went into labor. We have to go pick him up tonight if we’re going to take him.”

Seara moved off the couch and went over to stand in front of her sister. Alyssa’s eyes were blank. Seara could tell she was in that dark place again. Alyssa didn’t even notice mom move off the couch. Seara did what she always did when this happened – it hadn’t happened as often as it had in the beginning – gently Seara grabbed Alyssa’s hands, speaking softly to her.

Alyssa looked at her, “We have to. He’s our brother.”

Seara nodded. She knew her sister would want to protect their brother in the same way Alyssa always protected her. Seara leaped off the couch and ran to the kitchen, Alyssa following behind.

“We want him.” The girls shouted in unison. And then the barrage of questions began. Mom and dad laughed at the girls. Finally deciding mom would call Michelle, the social worker, and go pick up baby Michael, while dad and the girls talked and worked on dinner.

*        *        *

Monday morning, Seara woke before dawn. It had been a busy weekend, and would be a busy couple of hours before she could bring her dad home. Seara peeked at the clock and realizing she wouldn’t get anymore sleep decided to throw on her sweats on and go for a run.

Seara started out down the road she knew so well. A mile down the road Seara took a sharp right that would swing her back around. Slowing as she reached the familiar house. She didn’t want to run anymore. She had run on auto-pilot and now regretted the way she came. Seara was winded and decided she didn’t want to run the next two miles to complete her loop. Making a quick decision, she decided to head through the yard toward the path she knew was there. Walking quietly down the driveway toward the backyard in the first light of morning, Seara was careful to be quiet. Halfway down the driveway the front door of the house opened. Seara froze as she recognized that silhouette.

Brian.

My Not So Thankful Thursday

Do you ever just feel down in the dumps? Really? Because I never do... I am always happy and bubbly and ready to go the extra mile or two or three! I can't believe you aren't this way too... :)

Today is My Not So Thankful Thursday, not because I'm not thankful, but because I didn't start my day this way. I started it frustrated, upset, cranky, and ready to throw in the towel. Shocking I know. But you see I'm on this journey to be real. I am a real person with real struggles.

I was raised for the most part in the church. I learned early that pride was wrong. I thought pride was being puffed up and full of yourself. What I didn't realize was that pride was also evidenced in the fear of man! There were many times I would hide my shortcomings or not go up for an altar call because I was afraid that people would roll their eyes and say, "Jennifer is going up again!" Of course this was all in my mind. I learned it was important to always portray a strong front. I knew when putting on my Sunday best, I also had to put on my "church face." I did this for so long that I didn't know how to be weak. Verses like "in my weakness He is made strong" baffled me because if I was always supposed to be strong how could He be strong through me?

Something terrible began to happen, I began to become 2 people. It got to the point that I didn't know who I was anymore. I wasn't blatantly sinning or anything like that, but I had this double image. The strong independent Christian, who knew all the right words and phrases, who did all the right stuff; and then, this broken weak Christian who would pray "Lord just take me home." A friend of mine gave me a tape (yep a cassette) of this song "The Warrior is a Child." I was a senior in High School at the time and struggling with depression something awful. I heard this song and sobbed, because that was me! And I cried and prayed and became upset because no one knew the real me. The me that was hurting and desiring God with everything, but not understanding the feeling of brokenness because I had to be STRONG! I had to do and say all the right things, because no one could know that I failed and wanted to just die.

I think sometimes we give off the wrong impressions as Christians. We give off the persona of having it all together. I tell people I fail and they look at me in disbelief and say, "Well you're not as bad as me." Let me tell you, all sin separates us from God. God needs to work on each of us and the extent that we allow Him to work on us, is the extent to which He'll be able to take us on this journey. So I have to say it's been something of a challenge lately. I want to be real. I want to be able to connect with people. But even more than that, I know the only way I'm going to be able to have more of God is to be real with Him and myself.

Like I said before there were many times where I wouldn't go up for an altar call because I was worried about what others would think. In that fear I would harden my heart towards the pull of God. And then I would get home and pray and try to connect with God the way He was calling to me at the service, but it wasn't the same. Why? Because He wanted the humble me, not the prideful me.

At the beginning of November I went to a Women's Conference. God has been working something fierce on me since August, and I needed a break. You would think the last place I would want to be is at a Christian Women's Conference, but see I was the photographer. And as the photographer I had the responsibility to take pictures during worship, altar calls, and workshops. So it was the perfect place to "hide" from the hand of God, that's been performing surgery in my life. Or so I thought! Well the second night during worship I was so frustrated and angry at the piece of iron God put in my life that weekend. And I was upset because the piece of iron was reminding me of others who had hurt me and it was all bubbling to the top.

(You see, I had told you God's been doing surgery on me since August. He's walking me through this healing process and I have to tell you if I had known it was going to hurt so much I don't think I would've let someone pray for healing for me. I'll let you know when the process is over if it was worth it.)

Anyway, I was in worship and fell to my knees literally and began sobbing. I don't remeber what song the worship leader was singing, I just know it brought me to my knees. After the song was over she began praying for healing (Oh boy was I in trouble!) She began to sing again, and a friend and mentor of mine spoke a word over me, and I continued to pray. Shortly afterward I felt a release and stood up. And then we began to sing "Oh how He loves us." And I began singing along. Then the worship leader sang, "Oh how He loves me." And the words would not come out. The tears began to stream down my face as those words were sung. And I cried, "Why can't I sing that." The words were literally stuck in my throat. In my spirit I felt like God was saying to me, "You can sing 'Oh how He loves us' because you don't include yourself in that. You believe that I love them, but you don't believe that I love you." Wow, what a revelation for the church girl that's working to become a Children's Pastor, that stands up every Wednesday night and proclaims how much God loves them to the children. And in that moment I realized He was right. Because of the hurt and scars, because of the pain I've been holding on to I have a hard time believing that He loves me.

And so I think, what would've happened if I had hardened my heart that night because "I'm a leader," and I'm going to be a "Children's Pastor," and I need to be strong and I can't be emotional. I would have missed the opportunity for God to begin to further a work in me. I would have missed the incredible insight that I had gotten that night. And I would have stunted the work that God is doing in me.

I am a real person, with real problems, in need of a real God. I've lived long enough pretending fooling even myself at times, but I won't continue to be that person. And so if you think I'm an emotional basket case, I'm sorry. But I need to be real with me and real with God. And so should I be in service and need to weep at the altar, that's what I'll do. (As much as I HATE crying in public!) But this walk is between me and God. And the only way to keep from hearing "I never knew you" at the end of my life, is to be real with God now. Let Him know the real me and allow Him to work in the real me.

So My Not So Thankful Thursday has turned into a Thankful Thursday as I came to realize that people can give me good advice, but ultimately the Bible says "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling." And so I'm thankful that I have a real God, that answers real prayers, and works in real ways. I'm thankful that my emotions don't scare the Great Big God that gave them to me. And even in the pain of this healing process, I'm so thankful for a God that loves me enough to heal me, that loves me enough to speak to me, that loves me enough to want more for my life than to be a "status-quo" Christian. And yes I still struggle with believing God loves me, but that doesn't change the fact that His love never fails and never gives up on me!

I hope you enjoy this song. And feel free to share with me either on facebook, or through email at JLoveless84@yahoo.com

 

An Aha Moment

I've heard it takes thirty times of consecutively doing something to form a habit and one time of not doing it to break it. This could be why I have so little good habits, and so many bad habits. But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about why it's so easy to see the negative.

Tonight was our Capital Section Christmas Party for the church leadership. I went on my own, and when I got there a friend called me. We got talking, and I got out of the car to meet her inside. Do you have any quirky habits? I have a little habit I do before I get out of the car. I open the door, rattle the keys in my hand, lock the door, rattle them again, and then close the door. I do this because I have locked my keys in the door a not so few times. Only once (well it was once) with this van, but my other van was multiple times! Anyway, I've been doing this little intentional thing every time I drive for almost a month, or if I know I'm leaving the keys in the car I hit the unlock button about 7 times! I say all of this to say, my routine was interrupted. I could see my friend inside the church and I wanted to be in there. We were laughing and talking and I wanted to be face-to-face, but I let that distract me. I realized on my way out to my car that I couldn't remember putting my keys in my purse. I looked at my friend and said, "Oh no, I think I locked my keys in my car." Sure enough I did. Thanks to some wonderful people we were able to break into my car and get it unlocked. Much to my chagrin as it felt like EVERYONE had to investigate what the ruckus was. But my aha moment came on the drive home.

Why is it that one time of not doing something will break a habit? Why is it one negative comment can ruin our great day? Why is it one negative act, negates all of the positive ones?

I have been so bent out of shape about something so stupid, that I've failed to see all of the good. I've realized that I am a "quality time" love language person. Which means I feel most loved when people spend time with me. What I've failed to see is all the ways people have been trying to show me they love me, but because it wasn't how I perceive love, I haven't noticed until tonight that in their way, they've been showing me. We tend to give things the way we receive them, so how many people that I love don't "feel" loved because I've been showing them through quality time; and yet, they receive love through acts of service, or gifts, or word of affirmation, or physical touch.

It took locking my keys in my car to realized that I was loved. I've been evaluating my actions, as well as the actions of others lately - not in a haughty I'm right your wrong kind of way. But truly asking what have "they" done to show me love? And then I reversed the question and asked, "What have I done to show them love?" Honestly on both sides I've not been able to come up with anything, until tonight! Tonight I realized they've been showing me love through acts of service. When I realized that I wanted to scream, "THEY LOVE ME. THEY REALLY LOVE ME!" Of course I didn't, because I was coming right to the toll booth at exit 24 and the cute toll booth guy would've thought I was nuts, but it hit me. And then I thought, "Wow, why did I let one thoughtless act make me think that no one cared?" Why do we do that?

Honestly, I don't have an answer. I don't know why we let one negative act make us think negatively. But I really want to live on purpose. And I think one of the ways I need to do this, is by really paying attention to what I allow to effect me and how. I was telling an elder at church on Sunday, that I felt crappy, but I had joy, so I didn't really know how to answer the "How are ya?" questions. Because my world was feeling shaken and my emotions said go back to bed, but my Spirit knew joy and peace. Why the contradiction? I think some of it comes because we are made of three parts: body, soul, and spirit. Our bodies are sinful and I want to say are drawn to the negative. Our spirit if redeemed, born again, living for God is then good. Our soul is a follower, if the spirit is weak the soul will follow the body, if the spirit is strong then the soul will follow the spirit. So our bodies - our flesh - can know trouble, while our spirit knows peace. That was never so clear to me as it was on Sunday.

What does this mean? It means I need to not be so quick to jump to the negative. I need to seek to understand with my spiritual eye and not my roller coaster emotions. I need to live on purpose!

Fiction Friday... Alyssa

Disclaimer: The characters and events in my writings are 100% fictional and in no way depict real people, scenarios, or events. If you see yourself in my writing I had no intention of putting you there.
Additional Disclaimer: This story is extremely sad and although it does not depict anyone in real life, these events occur way too often in our society. If you have a hard time with sad stories about children, you may not want to read this one!

Just to help dispel some of the potential confusion. Each of these prequels focuses on a separate area of the girls' childhood. These are to help define the girls' character's and explain in a brief way, why they are the way they are.  

 

Alyssa

 

   Alyssa could hear her baby sister crying, but there was nothing she could do about it. She was afraid, if they heard her crying it would be bad. Alyssa groped around the black room trying to find a way out. She tripped on the shoes that lined the floor of the small room. Clothes hit her in the face as she reached for the walls. Three walls inspected it had to be the other one. As she reached for what she hoped was the door knob, the door swung open. Alyssa froze.

   "I told you to be quiet in here." The angry man yelled in her face. "Here keep her quiet or I will." The man tossed the two-year old at Alyssa, knocking them both over.

   Three-year old Alyssa sat rocking her baby sister, singing softly in her ear. Seara hushed and soon fell asleep. Alyssa's eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could hear the loud music coming from the other rooms. A strange smell was coming from under the door. She didn't understand why they were here. Alyssa fell asleep clinging to her baby sister. She would do everything she could to protect her.

   Alyssa awoke to silence. She was hungry and thirsty. Seara began to stir. Alyssa quickly hushed her and told her to stay put. Reaching up, Alyssa found the door knob. As slowly and quietly as she could Alyssa turned the knob. The door began to creak loudly, the sound echoing around the small space. Alyssa's heart stopped. If they knew what she was doing it would be bad. Alyssa moved ever so slowly, the door was opened enough that she could peek out. She could see the couch. A man, not the same man, was lying there asleep, an arm and leg hanging off the couch, a glass bottle tipped on it's side beneath his fingers. Alyssa opened the door some more, the man didn't move. Finally able to peek her whole head out, Alyssa looked around. There were stairs in the living room, straight ahead was the kitchen, and next to that was the bathroom.

   Seara made some noises that Alyssa knew meant she was thirsty. Alyssa told her sister to sit and she would be right back. Seara waited. She had learned early on that she needed to do what her sister said. Alyssa tiptoed to the kitchen, the counters were too high to reach any of the cups in the cupboard and if she tried to climb up, she'd learned from the past, would make too much noise and wake someone up. Alyssa found a plastic cup lying on the floor next to the garbage can. She took the cup to the bathroom, ever so quietly Alyssa dipped the cup in the toilet. Tiptoeing back to the closet Alyssa brought the cup to her sister. Her stomach grumbled. Looking around she decided she needed to get them some food. On the small table next to the man on the couch was a bag of chips. Maybe if she was quiet no one would hear her.

   Just as she reached the chips she heard someone on the stairs. Mom. Alyssa's eyes grew large like a deer in the headlights. At first her mother didn't see her. Alyssa stood still hoping she wouldn't get in trouble. Then her mother's eyes focused on her and the sneer that ran across her face caused Alyssa's heart to stop. In moments her mother had grabbed her and began shaking her, screaming that she was a little thief.
   The man on the couch stirred and rescued Alyssa. Yanking Alyssa from her mother's grasp, Alyssa screamed as she heard a pop. Both adults froze. Alyssa's right arm hung limply by her side.

   Alyssa awoke in a cold sweat. Her heart pounding. She looked around the room, the lamp on her night-stand casting a faint glow in the room. She was safe. It had been three years since that had happened, Alyssa could still hear the pop in her shoulder. It had taken days before her mother had finally taken her to the hospital. From there it was a whirlwind. Alyssa and Seara were whisked away and plopped with the Lee's. Alyssa had broken memories from that time. The doctors and police officers had said things the three-year old just couldn't understand. Alyssa had spent the first few days in a state of shock.
   Alyssa snuck out of her room to peek in on her sister. They had shared a room until recently. Everyday this week Alyssa had awoken and went to check on her sister. Seara was curled up around her favorite teddy bear. Alyssa slipped into the bed next to her sister. She wasn't ready for it to be morning. They would be going to court in the morning. Alyssa would finally be free of the ghosts that haunt her. Her one consolation was that her sister didn't remember. Alyssa had done her best to protect her. Tomorrow they'd have a real mom and dad. Alyssa sighed knowing they really did love them.
   Alyssa awoke to her sister crawling out of the bed, Elizabeth Lee standing in the doorway. When Seara went past Elizabeth came and sat on the bed.
   "Did you have another nightmare, sweetheart?" Elizabeth had been the one the girls had been sent to. It had taken three years, but finally the girls would live with them forever. Seara had called them mom and dad from the time she finally began talking, Alyssa waited. "Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked rubbing Alyssa's back.
   "Are you really going to be my mommy today?" Alyssa asked.
   Tears gathered in Elizabeth's eyes as she nodded. "Yes. Today I'm going to become your mommy. And Richard will be your daddy. Are you okay with that?"
   Alyssa sighed contentedly. Soon she'd be safe. With Elizabeth and Richard she knew it was going to be okay. 

Thankful Thursday - What Love Really Looks Like

This is going to be a little different than my normal Thankful Thursdays post. I've been struggling lately with the concept of love, and so I did what I normally would: I get mad, I throw a temper tantrum, I "pray" my way (basically complain to God) and tell Him not to give me an answer I don't want to hear, and then finally I pray and ask God to give me wisdom and help me; usually that entails Him showing me how I need to change.

So today I'm thankful for the answers God brings, even when it means I need to change!

I would like to share with you what I've come up with concerning love.

 

What Love Really Looks Like?

Love is a simple four letter word that I've recently noticed I use way too often. It's a word thrown around so much that it has lost some of it's meaning. Phrases like, "I love that movie," or "I love those shoes," or a "love ya" that is simply thrown at the end of a conversation, have diminished it's meaning.

The Bible says that God is love; however, it doesn't stop there. The Bible goes on to show us the acts of love. "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay one's life down for his friends" (John 15:13) and "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life" (John 3:16). This shows me that true love, God's love, is selfless, giving, and displayed in action. There's a saying that says "Love is a verb." A verb is an action word. To me this means to simply say you love something doesn't demonstrate that you do.

There is a good book called, The Five Love Languages. It talks about the different ways people feel loved: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. It's a great tool to understand how you receive love, and how others around you may receive love. It also confirms to me that love is displayed in action. Each of these languages take a verb, an action word, to complete them.

(As I began thinking this over, I initially felt justified: "See they don't love me..." And then I allowed God to continue working in me.)

1 Corinthians 13 makes cute sayings to put on place settings at a wedding. Everyone reads them and goes, "Awe how sweet." And then, they're forgotten about. Why? Because we've made love self-serving. How does it make me feel? I read through the list of love again.
Love:
- suffers long and is kind
- does not envy
- does not parade itself
- is not puffed up
- does not behave rudely
- does not seek its own
- is not provoked
- thinks no evil (some versions say here: keeps no record of wrongs)
- does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in truth
- bears all things
- believes all things
- hopes all things
- endures all things
Reading through this again my thought was, "Ouch!!" It's so easy to glance at this list and think, "What a nice thought." But that's not how the Bible is meant to be read! The Bible doesn't say things just because they're nice. This is how my love is to look. Love is an action, and these are the things people should see or not see in the way I love others. Can I honestly sit here and say my life has even one of these attributes all the time? Absolutely not!

I don't know about you, but I often get this chip on my shoulder that says, "they don't really love me, so I'm done with them." But Jesus says, "But if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them," and then goes on to say in a later verse, "But love your enemies, do good, and lend, hoping for nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High. For He is kind to the unthankful and evil" (Luke 6:32, 35).

Family is sometimes the hardest people to love, and it's so easy to want to write our families off. Why? Because they hurt us like no one else can. I can freely give of my time in working in the church, or going on a missions trip, or even going above and beyond at my job at work; and in all of these things, expect nothing in return. And yet, I struggle with my family. I think well they don't love me, they don't show me they love me, but this is selfish. Am I loving them, expecting nothing in return? Remember "love does not seek its own." As I'm coming to understand this I became utterly deflated. Does family still hurt us? Yes, but it's like those verse in Luke, if I only love those who [appear] to love me, what credit is that?

I'm still working on the execution of this lesson. It's one thing to read and understand, now comes the hard part of testing: executing God's kind of love no matter what! Here's what I've decided to do: stop saying it and start doing it. I want my actions to show my love. So when people hear my words it is confirmation of what they already know because of my actions.

What that means for you: If you say to me "love ya" don't get mad if I don't say it back, because I want to show you that I love you, and not just let it be empty words. I want you to know by my actions that I love you! Luke 6:30 says, "Treat others how you want to be treated." This is what I'm trying to do!

Fiction Friday... Talli

So I know this is a little late, but with Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and work it was a crazy day. But I still hope you enjoy this week's Fiction Friday. Next week I will be introducing Alyssa. I know we've seen a little blurb of her in Seara's story, but next weeks heart-wrenching tale will explain the ever-protective Alyssa. I hope these stories will give you a little glimpse into our characters, and why they are the way they are. In two weeks I will be introducing The Quartet, the story I've been working on, on and off, for nearly 14 years (yep started it the summer after my freshman year in High School). The story has been modified several times, and I'm hoping I might finally find it's ending. You guys are helping me with that; being able to share, and knowing people are looking forward to read what I write has motivated me to finish working on it.

Reminder: The disclaimer still holds true! :)

So without further delay...

Talli

Talli glanced around her room; the boxes seemed to be stacked to the ceiling. Her pink walls bare. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. She was going to be in middle school next year; and if going to a bigger school wasn’t scary enough, now she was changing states as well. She had spent the last year and a half making friends, now she’d have to start all over. Why did she have to move again?

Talli looked up to see her twin standing in the doorway. Knowing that look she scooted over on the bed, the unspoken sign allowing him to enter her room. Brian and her spoke more silently than they ever did with words. The slightest nod, shrug, or look sent messages to the other. Certain times they’d only look at each other and break out into spontaneous laughter, befuddling anyone in attendance not attuned to the twin telepathy.

Brian put his arm around his sister’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. She rested her head against his, sighing. This was there sixth move that Talli could remember, but her mom had told of the times they had moved while the twins were babies and also before they’d been born. Talli had been so sure they’d at least make it through Middle School this time. Now they were moving, again. And two weeks before their birthday, which would surely be forgotten.

“Why do we have to leave? I wish I could just stay here.” Talli told her brother.

“Well according to mom, they bought a house, no more apartments, so maybe we’ll be there through Middle School.” Brian comforted her.

“Whatever. We’re going to be living in the country. What are we supposed to do there? Here, if we want to walk around the corner to get a soda at the market or a gelato from the guy on the corner we can. What are we going to do in the middle of nowhere?”

Brian squeezed his sister’s shoulder again, his reply stuck in his throat as he saw his mom in the doorway. Talli straightened.

“Guys, almost done packing? The movers will be here first thing in the morning.”

Talli sighed.

“I am.” Brian said cheerfully, “I was just helping Talli finish up. We’ll do our bedding in the morning that’s what that box is for.” Brian pointed to the open box by the door. Mom nodded and walked back toward her room.

Brian and Talli were as different as they were alike. Brian and Talli shared dark hair, but Brian had blue eyes while Talli sported chocolate brown eyes. Brian was studious and while Talli, by no means dumb, had less interest in academia. Brian was optimistic and tended to be introverted; Talli was more pessimistic, but made friends easily. Maybe that’s why she feared the move, the whole summer in the middle of nowhere with no time to make friends. Two whole months just the two of them.

Brian suddenly brightened, “Hey, I think mom said, we were going to start going to church again there. Dad said he went to one a couple times while he was visiting there for work. I bet there will be lots of kids for you to meet.”

Talli rolled her eyes; they hadn’t been in a church since they were little. She didn’t know what would be worse, being bored to death every Sunday, or spending her whole summer in the middle of nowhere with the closest person hundreds of miles away?

Pushing up from the bed Talli began sorting through the last of her stuff. Brian silently at her side lifting things, with the slightest of head movements Talli signaled whether things staying or going. When they had finally finished Brian talked his sister into going out to shoot some hoops with him.

Nearly five days later, Brian and Talli sat with their parents in church. Brian was thrilled, Talli was nervous. They had come on Friday and met the pastor and were informed that the “kids” had a special class after worship. Talli sat arms folded during the singing and announcements. After the announcements the “kids” were dismissed to their classes. Brian and Talli joined the middle school class, they were told that everyone moved up in June, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Talli looked around the classroom from the doorway; the girls were in a small group talking quietly, while the boys were doing something by the front of the class, Talli couldn’t tell what. They were snickering and whispering which could only mean trouble.

“Hi I’m Seara. I’m going into sixth grade next year. This is only my second time in this class. We just had our moving up ceremony last week. You’re going to love Mr. Tom and Miss Kerry, they’re our teachers. According to my sister, that’s her over there, her name’s Alyssa. The boys try to play a joke on Mr. Tom each week. If they get him, they get a prize, but they haven’t yet.”

Mr. Tom and Miss Kerry walked in then. “Okay guys, take a seat.” Talli watched in amazement as people walked to the couches and bean bag chairs instead of going to the tables.

“Come on you guys can sit by me.” Seara waved them over.

There were five girls and six boys including Talli and Brian. Talli looked around the room and noticed they all had books in their laps. The girl named Seara led them to some empty cushions along the wall.

“I see we have some new people with us today, I’m Mr. Tom this is my wife Miss Kerry. Why don’t we take a minute and introduce ourselves.”

The youth seemed to know what they were doing and without anymore prompting began saying their names around the circle. Talli said, her name to finish the introductions. Miss Kerry asked some general questions about if they were siblings, what grade they were going into, and where they had lived before. By unspoken agreement Talli answered the questions directed at the two of them. It didn’t last long and soon class was under way. Talli was soon comfortable, and even though she didn’t know much of what was being talked about she really liked her teachers. They seemed genuinely interested in what the youth had to say.

Before they knew it class was being dismissed. The youth seemed to stay and hang out for a little while longer, but not sure what to do Talli and Brian headed for the door.

“Hey, it was great meeting you guys.” Seara said, “Will you be here next week?”

Talli shrugged, secretly hoping they would. Brian surprised Talli and spoke up, “Yeah we’ll be here. Mr. Tom mentioned something about a Wednesday class.”

“Yeah that’s at seven every week. We meet here we don’t go to the sanctuary first like we did today. Did you guys say you live on Johnson Road?”

After talking for a few minutes they found out that they were neighbors, sort of. Talli was excited about this revelation, she was thankful she wasn’t going to have spend the whole summer in the middle of nowhere with no one around for miles. She didn’t want to admit it, but it seemed this move wasn’t as bad as it once appeared.

Thankful Thursday

I started this week positively, I was so excited about what God was doing. I decided to make sticky notes so I wouldn’t forget all the things that I was thankful for. And then it happened, let me summarize by saying. this week was rough. It’s so easy when you feel attacked, or feel like everything is going wrong to have an ungrateful heart. But in spite of my rough week, I’m going to speak Victory into my day, and praise God for all the wonderful things I have to be thankful for.  The Bible tells us, “Life and death are in the power of the tongue.” Instead of speaking anger, bitterness, and resentment, I’m going to speak gratefulness, love, and joy.

I am extremely thankful to be done with my classes. It will be thirteen years ago in December I felt the call of God on my life to go into ministry. After multiple confirmations, it’s been a desire that is firmly planted in my heart. I originally tried to do it my own way and in my own strength. I went to Bible College when I knew that’s not what God wanted me to do. I tried taking Berean classes, and that didn’t work either. I continued to wrestle with God throughout the years saying, “God I know this is what you want me to do, but how?” I looked into other colleges, but had no peace about them, so I just continued to wait and serve where I was.

Three years ago, I couldn’t take it any longer. I had been wrestling with God about this call for nearly ten years. I said, “Ya know what God?” (Yes I really talk to God like this.) “When You’re ready to show me what to do, I’ll listen. But I’m done trying to figure out what You want me to do. It’s Yours. But could You please show me through Pastor Siegfried because he’s my authority, and say this is what I want you to do.” Immediately I had peace. Wow should have surrendered a lot sooner.

Two weeks later I have a meeting with Pastor, nothing out of the ordinary. At this time I’m already our Girl’s Ministry Coordinator, so meetings with Pastor about how everything was going in ministry was common. Towards the end of the meeting Pastor says to me, “I thought you told me you wanted to be a Children’s Pastor.” (Which there’s another long funny story about how that came about, but I’ll save that for another time). I answered in the affirmative, and he asks, “Well how are you going to do it?”

And I laugh and respond, “I have no idea.”

Then Pastor says, “This is what I want you to do.”

Immediately I stop everything else that I’m thinking about and in my heart say “Yes Lord I’m listening.” Only God can answer our prayers exactly how we pray them. Only God can give us direction in the middle of a desert. Only God can show us the steps we need to take to answer the call he puts in our lives. And I am so grateful, so thankful to be done with the beginning of the process. There is so much more I need to do, and there are so many other steps and directions that need to be gone through. But for now I’m not going to look ahead. I’m going to take time to enjoy this small victory. I’m not going to rush ahead, and lose the heart of thankfulness.

This week I’m thankful for finishing my classes!

I am thankful for 2^nd moms that know when you need a Moe’s day!

I am thankful for my grandparents. They love me and bless me without condition.

I am thankful for all the blessings God has given me:

- my job
- my car
- a place to live
- my church and church family
- my nieces and nephews, who bring a smile to my heart the minute they walk into a room
- my parents who recognize the call on my life, and do everything they can to support me
- my siblings

AND SO MUCH MORE! Thank You Lord!

Healing

“Even if the healing doesn't come
And life falls apart
And dreams are still undone
You are God You are good
Forever faithful One
Even if the healing
Even if the healing doesn't come”
 

This song has been going through my head, whenever I hear it on the radio I think, “Wow can I really say this.” I would like to think I could. I imagine myself in a situation; and then, I imagine myself singing this in victory, arms raised in surrender. Knowing, “to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21).

But lately when I hear this song I think of something else altogether. Right now I’m walking through a season of Healing in my life. It began a couple months ago by sharing a part of my testimony. The person I was sharing with looked at me and said, “Jenn you’re praying wrong. What you need is healing?” Immediately, my eyes began to water because the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. They asked to pray for me.

I wish I knew before they prayed that healing hurt so much! It’s been a painful process with no end in sight. I know when God’s finished with the surgery I’ll be a better vessel for God’s glory, but here’s where the song comes in … What if the healing doesn’t come? What if after going through this process, the healing doesn’t come?

Now do I know that no matter what there are lessons to be learned in the process? Of course. And do I realize, that no matter what, by submitting to God’s hand He’s going to make me into a vessel used for His honor? Yes.

But what if the healing doesn’t look like what I think it should look like? What if there are still wounds that hurt? Places that will always be tender to the touch? Muscles that don’t fully work the way there supposed to when the process is over?

I know nearly every surgery leaves a scar. But scars don’t hurt. Scars are the character of our life. They tell our stories; the battles we’ve fought and lived through. Scars are the proof healing took place. So I’m okay with having scars.

But what if the healing doesn’t come? Do I go back to living like those wounds didn’t exist? Building up walls around the areas of my life that need protection? Walls that I’m working so hard to tear down in the healing process.

NO! No, I must not go back. We all have internal hurts that have the potential to tear our lives apart if we allow them too. I had been burying mine for years. Hiding them. It caused me to be 2 different people. The person I am, and someone totally different around the people that hurt me. So even if the all the hurts don’t go away, I cannot continue to be 2 people. I must walk forward believing, “That He who began a good work in me will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

So no, the healing may not look like what I thought it would. It may not be done all at once. I’m learning it’s a process. But no matter what, I refuse to go back. I refuse to allow the first stages of healing to be undone.

So…

"You are God and I will bless You
As the Good and Faithful One
You are God and I will bless You
Even if the healing doesn't come

Even if the healing doesn’t come"

Life's Not Fair, But God Is!

I heard someone say once, “God isn’t fair, He’s just.” This thought has rolled around in my head on and off through the years. I have to say, I disagree. God is fair.

I’m not a parent, but I’ve been working with kids for over 15 years. I have to say I’ve learned many things. The thing that I’ve known, but never really had words to explain is that “Fair doesn’t mean equal.”

Any parent with multiple children will tell you that they don’t treat all their kids the same. Does that mean they’re not fair? No. All kids are different; and so, in order to treat them fairly they need to be treated differently.

As a child and teenager whenever I heard the story of the talents in the Bible I thought, “That’s not fair.”

Matthew 25:14-30 – The master is going on a long journey and so he gives the first servant five talents, the second servant he gives two talents, and the third servant he gives one talent. This is where I think; well he doesn’t really give them all an equal shot, why doesn’t he give them all the same amount. Then let them prove themselves.

On his return he calls his servants for them to give him a report. The first comes and says, “Master, you gave me 5 talents, Look here are 5 more.” The Master says, “Well done you were faithful over a few things, I will put you in charge of many.”

The second comes and says, “Master, you gave me two talents, Look here is two more” The Master says, “Well done you were faithful over a few things, I will put you in charge of many.” The master says the exact same thing to the first two servants.

Finally, the third servant comes in, I can almost see him gravelling. He says, “Master I know you are a hard man, reaping where you have not sown, and gathering where you have not scattered seed, and I was afraid so I went off and hid your talent in the ground, here here’s the talent you gave me.” I always felt bad for the last servant. You can almost feel his fear. He knows His master is a harsh man. And he proves it in his next lines, “You evil and lazy slave, you know I reap where I haven’t sewn and gather where I haven’t scattered, you should have at least taken it to the bank and deposited it, so that on my return I would’ve at least gotten it plus the interest. Take the one that he has give it to him with 10 and take this good-for nothing slave and throw him into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Wow that’s harsh! I always thought, really was that necessary, I mean so he messed up, don’t we all mess up. And he wasn’t given a fair shot.

But read vs. 15 – “to one he gave five talents; to another, two; and to another, one – each according to his ability.” The master was fair. He gave “each according to his ability.” The master knew what each of his servants could handle. He knew them and their abilities and gave to each of them accordingly.

Our Master knows us and knows our abilities and will not give us more than we can handle, positively or negatively. The Bible says that God knows our frame and that we are dust. He created us; He knows the stresses and pressures we can handle.

It’s a common cliché that God will not give us more than we can handle. Let me tell you, it’s true. God will not give us more problems than we can handle and He will not give us more success than we can handle. Less we should curse him in our problems, or become prideful in out successes; each with the same result: turning away from God.

I wonder what would have happened if the Master had given the first servant 100 talents or even 50. Would he still have been successful? I don’t know, the verse says the Master gave each according to his ability which means, He knew exactly how much they could each handle.

The Master has given you talents and abilities. The question is what will you do with them? Will you be faithful with the few talents that God has given you? Will you use them to increase his kingdom, like the first two servants? Or will you bury your talents and your head in the sand?

Instead of looking around and thinking, “Oh I wish I could do this or that.” Start by doing what you can. And then as you are faithful in those areas you will begin to grow and develop, then next thing you know you’ll hear yourself say, “If you had asked me a year ago I would’ve never thought I’d be here.” What happened? How did someone get to that point? They were faithful in the few, and God used them.

So I encourage you to serve God now, where you’re at. Don’t wait another day to begin. Don’t be the evil slave that says, “Well because I can’t do this or that I’m not useful.” Because God, the King, the Lord of Lords, the Creator of Heaven and Earth has given gifts and talents to each of us, don’t be like the lazy, ungrateful slave and hide the gift God has given you. Serve God with all you have, starting right where you’re at and let God multiply you!