Here we get into the details about faith and life

Vacation

In sixteen days, we are leaving on vacation. I’m sure you know the feeling. Weeks and months of being overwhelmed, over-worked and over-committed are about to give way to freedom and rest. My husband has been swamped with meetings, reports, travel and seminary studies. The kids have endured challenging school years and extracurricular commitments. But soon, we get to leave all that behind for a vacation.

When it comes to the need for rest, for a break or for some daylight, we can all identify with that. We circle the days on our calendars. We shop ahead of time so we’re prepared. We even take on extra work just so we can get everything in order before vacation.

Truth is, God invented vacations. He gave them a different name, though. He called them “Sabbath”. God intended for us to take a break from our routine one day out of every seven. He set the day apart and called it holy, and He gave it as a gift to us.

“See! For the Lord has given you the Sabbath.” Exodus 16:29

Since then we’ve overcomplicated it, made it a burden, misunderstood and misapplied it. Sabbath is a chance to come away, rest, recharge and reconnect with our Father. It won’t strain our budget. Our luggage won’t get lost, and it’s not dependent on perfect weather.

So… How long has it been since you’ve had a Sabbath?

How would things change if we recognized our need for Sabbath as deeply and as easily as we recognize our need for a vacation?

What if we approached it with that same sense of anticipation and longing?

Like Joseph

By Paula Wiseman

No doubt you’re familiar with the story of Joseph — the coat, the dreams, slavery, imprisonment and finally vindication as he’s made prime minister of Egypt. (You can read the details in Genesis chapters 37-50.) I’ve often heard him described as a type of Christ in the way he forgives, and the way he saves his family. But lately as I looked at his life and circumstances, I saw that Joseph is a type of us.

Joseph lived a pretty good life in Potiphar’s house, but he was still a slave. Being in charge of the prison must have had its perks, but it was still prison. Joseph held on to those dreams, though. He knew there was more.

He knew he wasn’t made to be a slave or a prisoner. His destiny was to reign alongside the king.

We have that same destiny.

It’s easy to forget that fact. This world we live in now, with its challenges and sorrows, is not where we belong. This is slavery and prison. One day the king will call for us. He’ll clothe us in His own fine linen and set us over His kingdom to rule with Him. Just like this.

You are worthy to take the scroll,
And to open its seals;
For You were slain,
And have redeemed us to God by Your blood
Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation,
And have made us kings and priests to our God;
And we shall reign on the earth.”
Revelation 5:9-10

A slave who reigns beside the king. Just like Joseph.

How does that change your perspective?

Storm Takeaways

By Paula Wiseman

My Sunday school kids and I looked at Mark 4:35-41, in which Jesus calms a storm on the sea of Galilee. While we would expect townies and landlubbers like say, Matthew or Judas, to be freaked out by a storm on the water, four of the thirteen men on the boat were experienced fishermen. They had been through storms before, but this one was enough to worry them. This was a huge storm. Some suggested it was a waterspout- a tornado on water.

Here are some of my own storm takeaways from the lesson-

1. Storms are going to blow up suddenly and without warning.
2. They may be the kind I’m used to dealing with, (like the fishermen were used to storms) or they may be something completely foreign (like the townies were experiencing)

Then I had some difficult questions-

1. How long do I try to handle things on my own, not wanting to ‘bother’ Jesus? Until it becomes a life-or-death situation?

2. How quick am I to accuse Jesus of not caring? (v. 38)

3. Why I am so fearful? How is it that I have no faith? (v. 40)

The key to the whole story is the statement Jesus makes in v.35 “Let us cross over to the other side.” He didn’t say ‘let’s try’ or ‘I hope we make it’. He was completely sure of His mission, and confident that God would see Him through until the completion of it.

I get fearful and lose faith because a.) I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going, so… b.) I’m not so sure God is going to bring me through it.

What storm takeaways do you have from the storms in your life?

Want more? 4 Lessons Learned in a Storm

Ladybug Fear

By Paula Wiseman

My youngest used to be terrified of ladybugs. The running-away-screaming kind of terrified. Of ladybugs. No matter what reassurances we offered, she remained committed to that phobia. She wouldn’t go down the slide if there’s a ladybug. Once, she refused to leave the house because a ladybug was crawling across the threshold. Not bees. Not spiders. Ladybugs.

In Mark 4, he gives his account of Jesus calming a storm on the sea of Galilee. He speaks to the storm with authority, with ownership, the way you might tell your dog to hush. In the calm that followed, Jesus asked His disciples two pointed questions:

Why are you afraid? Not, what are you afraid of, but why? This is a whole different issue.
Do you still have no faith? After all that you’ve seen Him do …?

In some ways, the disciples’ fear made as much sense as Rachel’s fear of ladybugs. Jesus knew the storm had no power to harm them, and wouldn’t interfere with their mission. It was just something they had to go through. In His grace and compassion, though, He calmed the storm.

Really, all our fears are ladybug fears. The things in this life have no power to do us eternal harm. They can’t interfere with our mission unless we let them. They’re just something we have to go through.

Verse 41 says the disciples “feared exceedingly” after the miracle. That fear of the storm had been replaced with a new kind of fear, a reverent, God-honoring recognition of His deity and authority.

I want that kind of fear. Not the ladybug kind.

Practice Makes Christ-like

By Paula Wiseman

We all want to be more like Jesus, right? We can read a lot, give a lot, even go to church a lot, but there’s one more thing that will help us. Practice. Practice makes us Christ-like. How so?

“Mom, I think the toilet’s clogged.”

Not what I had on my list for the day. And it NEVER happens when Dad is home. Now I’m gonna be behind, probably for the rest of the day. Great.

Sound familiar? Not the toilet part, necessarily but the responses. Life throws us a little curve and we react immediately. Grumbling, complaining, maybe even some of that “unsanctified” speech slips – or floods – out.

But it’s not “life” throwing anything. It’s God.
God backs up toilets? (Well, is He sovereign or isn’t He?) But plumbing? Isn’t that insanely micro-managing things? (Okay, micro-managing is for control freaks. Control freaks try to run things they can’t or shouldn’t. God can and does rule over everything, and sovereignty over these little details is evidence of His vast knowledge and power.)

So why does God mess with all these little details, allowing these aggravations into our lives? It’s training. The annoyances give us a chance to practice all those sweet-sounding lessons we learn on Sundays, that is, practice being Christ-like. How will we respond when the car doesn’t start? Were those hymns and praise songs just lip service? What will we do when the three year old paints her bedsheets with nail polish? What kind of God will she see modeled in our response?

God arranges everything in our lives to make us more Christ-like. Sometimes He uses a “lecture” setting, like sermons or Bible study, and other times, He gives us a “lab” exercise, to put those ideas into action. While it doesn’t make us perfect, practice makes us more Christ-like.

Accepted

By Paula Wiseman

to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He has made us accepted in the Beloved. Ephesians 1:6

I love the story of the prodigal son. It’s such a deep story with so many layers and applications. For just a moment, focus with me on the end of the story. Imagine being that young man thrust in the middle of the banquet. He was surrounded by family and friends who had known him since he was a kid, but they also knew his story. Everybody there knew what he had done, knew how he had disrespected his father, knew how he had lived his life. They’d heard all the gossip about the immorality, the prostitutes and the partying.

Put yourself in his shoes. How do you feel? Uncomfortable? Ashamed? Undeserving? Afraid of rejection? Would you feel accepted?

Ephesians 1:3-6 contain some of the most mind-blowing truths in Scripture, and it finishes up with God’s grace “by which He made us accepted in the Beloved”. Accepted means highly favored, honored, showered with blessing. Other translations render it “glorious grace he has poured out on us,” “lavished on us,” “freely bestowed.”

As the boy journeyed home, his only concern was how his father would receive him. His father welcomed him joyfully, his heart overflowing with love.

How does our Father receive us? The very same way. Everyone else at the banquet shared the father’s heart and rejoiced with him. Only those outside the banquet resented the grace the father showed the prodigal.

I need to focus on my Father, who accepts me, favors me, showers me with blessing. The people outside the banquet- He’ll deal with them in His wisdom just as the father in the story approached his older son.

When it’s someone else’s banquet, I need to make sure which side of the door I’m on- the rejoicing side or the pouting side.

For more, see Shameless