Here we get into the details about faith and life

Cleaning Out the Junk

Our house was built in 1920 and as was the standard of the day, it has plaster walls and ceilings. Now, some ninety-three years later the ceiling in my office is showing an ominous crack. We had a big section of the entry hall ceiling collapse several years back, and we do not want a repeat here. So I get a remodel this summer. The downside is… I have to pack up my office. You have no idea – who am I kidding, I have no idea how much stuff is squirreled away in this room. Most of it, I have gathered and collected over the years, but there is a lot of junk that has passively, insidiously accumulated. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I got busy with other things and let it creep in.

Often times I let my heart get cluttered with a bunch of junk, too. A bad attitude. Some self-righteousness. A grudge or two. I don’t mean for them to slip in. I know they are ungodly and inconsistent with the grace I’ve been given. But they stack up anyway. Sometimes they blend into the background so completely, I don’t even recognize them any more.

I can handle it in one of two ways. I can continue to ignore them and float along… until Jesus has to do a major clean-out operation. He cleaned out the temple a couple of times in the gospels, because the building, the worship and the hearts of the people had gotten so cluttered with junk, they could no longer connect with Jehovah God. The clean-out was public and probably painful for those on the receiving end. Jesus won’t shy away from doing that. But there’s an easier way.

David says in Psalm 139 “Search me, O God, and know my heart.” I can be pro-active. I can go to God and admit that I know I have a tendency to let junk build up in my heart. But I trust Him enough to show Him so He can help me get rid of it. It’s much less painful and it builds intimacy with God.

Just between us, this is something I’m working on. I’m not especially good at it yet. But I know it works.

As far as my office goes… I have 29 or so more boxes to pack.

Grace and Candy Bars

By Paula Wiseman

In my Sunday school room, I keep a plastic storage container filled with little candy bars as an incentive/reward. When my boys read their Bibles for the week, they get to choose a candy bar. Some weeks, they get them anyway. Visitors get double. The younger kids, ones not in my class, know about the candy, and I often see them sneaking out of my room, grinning.

However, that also means I occasionally run out. My boys have come to expect those candy bars, and make no mistake, I hear about it when I fail to meet their expectations. What’s more, I hear it from the little kids when the box is empty.

There are no rules or laws about Sunday school teachers and treats (that I know of). I am not required to provide candy bars. I do it because I want to encourage my guys. I love my boys, and I want them to learn and grow, and this was just one little way to connect with them. They get accustomed to that, though, and a sense of entitlement develops.

Here’s the thing- those candy bars are grace.

Think with me for just a moment. God is not required to pour out His grace, yet He does. His grace even touches those outside His kingdom. See the parallel?

Just like my boys, I get used to the provisions of God’s grace. Often I begin to believe I am entitled to it. Many times, I grumble about how God chooses to administer His grace, whether it is poured out when I think it should be, and whether or not I am getting what I “deserve”.

But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Ephesians 4:7

Grace is a gift. It’s always a blessed gift. Chocolate candy bars don’t even come close.

Vacation

By Paula Wiseman

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.