Here’s an obscure little paragraph of a story that I find interesting buried away in the Old Testament:
“One day a man from Baal-shalishah brought the man of God a sack of fresh grain and twenty loaves of barley bread made from the first grain of his harvest. Elisha said, ‘Give it to the people so they can eat.
‘What?’ his servant exclaimed. ‘Feed a hundred people with only this?’
But Elisha repeated, ‘Give it to the people so they can eat, for this is what the Lord says: Everyone will eat, and there will even be some left over!’ And when they gave it to the people, there was plenty for all and some left over, just as the Lord had promised.”
Sound familiar? Fast forward a few chapters and several hundred years, and we see Jesus likewise feeding a crowd, the whole famous “loaves and fishes” picnic on the side of a hill.Continue reading “Time to eat”
I rather like frogs; actually, I really quite fancy them. (No, not to eat!)
Along with the crickets, they sing me to sleep at night, and keep serenading me in the pre-dawn mornings on the patio before work. Bob, my biology-professor husband, likes them also, but has a much more practical bent toward them. Whereas I always want to catch them, pick them up, look at them eyeball-to-eyeball, the prof always says, “leave it alone, it’s a scared little creature”.
I remember, as a kid, singing from the hymnbook in church and after awhile realizing I was singing the words, but my mind was somewhere else. C’mon, I’m not the only one!!
Alright, I’ll even go a step further in the confessional. I was leading our small congregation in that song, Trading My Sorrows. (Okay, so I don’t quite sound like the guy in the video….)
I was telling our folks that the negatives in our lives actually do have trade-in value to God and that we can to give them to Him. He values our sorrows, our pain. But here’s the rub: when I say something on stage, God’s really pointing the finger at me, isn’t He? (Ouch.)Continue reading “Do I have to do this, too?”
At this writing, Bob and I are waking up in a Portland airport hotel after scooping our kinder from Norway and waiting on the New Yorker to arrive after which we will travel a little more to meet additional loved ones for a week of high fives, and plenty of family-based jocularity. I missed a really great photo-op as we cruised right past Mount Hood, but here’s a reasonable facsimile:
In typical fashion, being the only early riser in the whole extended clan, (thus the name “Dawn”, I suppose), I am sitting out on some backside patio before the hotel’s breakfast is even ready, listening to the birds compete with the jet planes roaring off in the not-so-far distance. I’m impressed by the sound of their immense power, with just two puny little humans at the helm. Wow.
Now, granted, those two puny little humans had to go to school and learn some pretty impressive things, like to properly engage that immense power. Otherwise, that plane, as pretty as it looks, is just not going anywhere.
Or worse, yet, it might go somewhere it shouldn’t…
“We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves…For the Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power.”
One of the challenges for Christians in my culture (translated: for me) is the misunderstanding of the power that resides within us/me. I look in the Bible and see things, powerful things, and I have to wonder, “Am I really living all that God has for me?”
(Oh! There goes another one into the wild blue yonder!! Man, those engines are huge.)
Or am I just shaking my head and thinking, “Yep, that’s a nice plane”, but never bothering to go to school and learn to fly for myself?
The thing is, God says the power, His power, the power His Son died for, is already in all of His children. Fueled up, ready to go. Many times, however, I stay grounded, not only by ignorance, but also by fear, self-contempt and blame, offense, and the list goes on.
This doesn’t mean God doesn’t love me any less—no way. It’s just that He calls me to more. And He needs me for more. Others need me for more:
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up…”
I have so many bells and whistles on this computer, I could take a 5-credit hour class just to learn it all, if I even have the mental capacity for such an undertaking. So I have done the next best thing via this wonderful search engine which has now become a verb in our vernacular: I just “google it”! Lo and behold, up comes YouTube tutorials, text steps one through ten, and various others educational DYI for techno-dummies (like me). It takes a little wading through, as in when I bump into a term I don’t understand, at which point I have to back up further by looking that one up (read: “google it”), and then go back to where I was.