Just a Piece of Pie

When I'm in a hurry, I tend to grab the closest picture - whatever that is. But this is citrus - close enough? 

I was beating egg whites the other day for use in little treats that we needed to make. Maybe it was because we were a bit too tired or maybe because, well, stiff egg whites are associated with meringue. At any rate, I decided I would like to eat lemon meringue pie. The easiest way to make this a reality, I concluded, was to make a batch of it myself. In my memory, I had never before tasted that decadent dessert, so that fact helped to motivate me in carrying out that plan.

The only problem was that we were going to be extremely busy the next two days, yet if I didn't get it done in that time period, I wouldn't be able to do it for an extended period of time. So I simply asked God for lemon meringue pie, and then promptly forgot that little prayer. After all, I was just a little crazy in wanting to have the not-so-healthiest-of-all-foods, we were crazy busy, I had other "big" prayers looming in the air, and, well, I didn't want to eat it that badly.

The next day I found myself at church. Just as we were about to leave, a very kindhearted "Uncle" walked up to us and said, "Would you like a piece of pie?"

In his hands was - you guessed it - lemon meringue pie.

Jesus loves me; this I know.

Wait

Waiting is hard. Patience is harder. This simple upload probably took a mere seventeen minutes, but I decided it was nearly an eternity in the world of the internet.  How much more impatient do I get when God has me wait longer - much longer? 

November surely has flown by quickly! I guess it may be true that the amount of blog posts is inversely proportional to the amount of busy-ness on hand. But then again, it does all depend on priorities;) In the mean while, here's a little something God has been teaching me lately.

I've been seeking (or rather, trying to seek) God's over certain decisions lately. And then He does speak to me - but not in the way that I would like! Instead of giving me a clear "Yes" or "No", it seems that His message is "You're on the right track. Keep waiting patiently." But I would prefer to open my Bible and see a verse in LARGE, bold print that says, "Thus saith the Lord: Regarding your decision, My answer is [either YES or NO]." Wouldn't that be easier than just plain waiting?

But waiting is just one part of it. What if He says "Yes" and I want "No"? Or what if He says "No" and I want "Yes"? Then I don't want to ask Him, because He might say the answer I dread. However, if I get the answer I want, it might be my own imagination and not His will not all! Ah!

As I was talking with my dad about this whole seeking God's will thing, he asked me if I had my own will in it (i.e. I want the answer to be yes/no).

"Of course not!" I said, confident that I had gotten over my own desires.

So he tells me a story. (Isn't that awesome?)
A couple days ago, he had seen metal storage racks for sale online at a ridiculously cheap price. Since we had been looking to buy them for a while, he sent the seller an email, asking quite a simple question. At this point there were around eighty items in stock. Very soon, the items in stock dwindled to a mere eight. Unable to wait any longer and still without a reply from the seller, he bought four racks.  No more than several hours later, he found an email in his inbox, although it was not from the seller. Instead it stated that the seller was compromised (i.e. he had no items to sell, but simply ran off with the money made from "selling").

My dad went on to say that if he had not wanted to buy the items so much, he would have thought about the reason why the seller refused to reply him. However, the desire for something can easily cloud our ability to hear God.

Feeling convicted, I realized that I had a strong desire for God to answer me in a specific way. I wanted God to comply with me. Oh yes, it sure did make hearing God harder. Much harder. And yes, it made waiting so. much. harder.

It's not over yet - but God is sovereign. So now I'm learning to surrender my desires to God and wait patiently for Him.

Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD. 
- Psalm 27:14

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

"It's been such a busy, busy week, and it's going to get busier today!" I thought to myself this morning. "And, yikes! I have to write a blog post too! What in the world can I write about?" 

I wasn't quite overwhelmed yet, but "packed" might describe this past week. Or it seems as if the word "flurry" may portray it better. However, regardless of what I was thinking, I opened my Bible, preparing to do my morning devotions. The very first verse that I was to read was the below. 

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. (Psalm 121:1)

I don't know what that verse means to you, but it immediately brought to my mind a lesson I learned a while ago. A biology lesson, to be specific. ("Of all things! You might say.)

Allow me to rephrase it in my own words.

As you were reading this post, I would guess that you have already done this activity many times. Now, I ask that you do it again. Blink.  While you perform this necessary task, your upper eyelid lowers until it meets your lower eyelid. Now blink again. Notice how your eyeball turns upward slightly while your eyelids close.

 Most of the time when we pray, we close our eyes. And now you know that as we lift our spiritual eyes up to God in prayer, our physical eyes are also directed upward.

As this little science lesson came flooding back to my mind this morning, I thanked Him for speaking to me in one of my favorite "languages" - His intricate creation. What a reminder for me to "turn my eyes upon Jesus" in the midst of  the chaos around me.

I'll lift my eyes to You, Jesus. And thank you for the built-in, lifelong, constant reminder! 

Black Widow

Little brother is quite responsible. That's why I was surprised to hear something that resembled a package falling to the ground. I had taken him to get the mail, and had handed him the package while I finished retrieving the mail. As I turned around, I realized why he had let go of it. A large black widow crawled off the package. Little brother stood to the side while I set about the task of exterminating it. A pile of stones later, we succeeded in killing it and flipping it over. As we noted the red hourglass marking on its belly, I asked God to give me an opportunity sometime to use that experience to communicate a deeper truth.

Later that day, we were informally discussing the story of Genesis 3 and how we should respond to temptations. I looked at the little brother and reminded him of our spider adventure.
"Remember how you immediately threw the spider, along with the package, on the ground? You didn't panic either, you just asked for help. That reminds me that when Satan brings 'black widows' to my life, I shouldn't pity it, but completely 'throw it away'. And I can't 'kill' it on my own either, I need to ask Jesus to help."

Wow. I didn't know how much Satan would throw these "black widows" at me this week. Most of the time it was in the area of thoughts. But every time I've asked Jesus to "kill" them, He has.

Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world. ~1 John 4:4

What are the 'black widows" in your life?

Is it Really Greater Than a Cure for Cancer?

"If I believe, then does that mean that you guys kind of had a part in "saving" me?"

"No - Jesus saves and Him alone!" I answered.

"Then... Why do you guys [keep witnessing to us]?"

Our family was volunteering at a Christian organization (the same one mentioned in this post), and among the volunteers were several non-believers. When we worked together, there would often be one person sharing the gospel to them while we all continued going about the tasks. Now I was working with them, and I felt God's prompting to ask if they were ready to believe on Him. To say I was reluctant to do it would be an understatement, and my mind quickly filled with a multitude of absurd excuses. But somehow by God's grace, there I was talking to them.

"Well, imagine that I had cancer. I was about to die when I underwent a treatment that saved my life. Now, let's say that I know you also have cancer. How could I not tell you about the life-saving treatment? Jesus is the same way to me."

As of today, I don't know how God used that conversation in their life. But God convicted me as I thought about the cancer analogy.

Most of you who know me know that I love biology. Something about God's creation completely fascinates me.  I could spend hours talking about it to anyone - and I do. Before I learned not to, I would spend all of dinner talking about the muscle anatomy of the chicken we were eating to my family, who had no choice but to listen. (Tip: If you're a little short on meat, that would be a great way to stretch it.) All that written to say that if I knew of a 100% successful cancer treatment, I would tell everyone.  And I would not stop talking about it. I wouldn't even notice how embarrassing the situation seemed. 

While I was thinking about all the above, my conscience piped up.  "You know that Jesus is far better than a cure for cancer - He completely heals all who come to Him. He saves them - literally! He saved you! Why do you not tell everyone about Him the same way you would tell others about a cure for cancer? Why do you shrink back in fear and embarrassment when you meet those whom you can witness to?"

I was convicted. But I was still extremely hesitant. I wanted to do it, but fear always managed to hold me back. Right around this time, one of my friends challenged me to not ignore God's promptings to tell others about Him that week. (God definitely knows what to do to get me going!) I accepted the challenge (it had to be God's hand at work!), and surprisingly, I eagerly waited for the coming week. 

Lo and behold, the week went by and no opportunities to witness to others presented itself. What? How could this be? I was already quite confused when someone reminded me that I could actually continue the challenge. (What a revelation!)  So, I decided to stick with it a little longer.

Monday morning rolled around and I found myself on the bus. I didn't get to witness to the person sitting beside me... because the person was already listening to music. No, it was because yours truly was tired and was about to fall asleep. No, it was the person who looked like she was about to fall asleep. I cannot remember which of the odd excuses I used, but I wasn't able to say any more to the person than maybe just a plain "Hello". 

By the time afternoon arrived and I re-boarded  the bus, I was thoroughly convinced that I wasn't able to do this witnessing on my own. God had to help me if it were going to happen. 

Soon, the bus came to the next stop, and a lady sat on the chair beside me. And then she started chatting with me! In my memory, I don't believe anyone ever started a conversation with me on a bus. It was usually I who gave the obligatory (or so I think) "How are you doing?" greeting. Sometimes the question was met with a low, gruff-sounding acknowledgement or occasionally a more enthusiastic "Good!", but the conversation typically ended right there.

Now, the lady had started the conversation! I quickly put down whatever I was reading and gave her my full attention. God was giving me another chance to tell someone about Him! However, several minutes into the conversation,  I wasn't quite so certain. Here we were, making small talk about the activities that went on in the bus, what she did for her profession, and the like.

"God, this isn't working! I can't "transition" into talking about You! I'm stuck with talking about the air conditioner!" (Maybe it wasn't the a/c we were talking about- but I can't remember exactly and it doesn't really matter:))

"She's asking why you're here. Tell her your testimony and don't cut Me out of it!"

"Ok, Lord. But please help me!"

So I proceeded to tell her the wonderful miracles of God. I had no idea what she was thinking (or what the whole busload of people were thinking, for that matter),  and her darkly tinted sunglasses did not help any!

Finally, I finished my speech. She then remarked, "I am a Christian, too."

"Wow!" I silently prayed, "Thank you Jesus for giving me an 'easy' person to 'witness' to!"

The conversation then turned to churches and the like. When she left, she looked at me and said, "It was great talking to you!" I still had no idea what she was thinking, yet her tone of voice did seem to communicate that she was encouraged in Jesus. But regardless of what she felt, I was deeply encouraged to share about Him more.

Jesus IS greater than a cure for cancer. But do I live like it?

P.S. Dear reader, I also challenge you to not ignore God's promptings to you to tell others about Him this week. And meanwhile, I would greatly appreciate it if you keep me in your prayers! Like what it says in the Bible in Mark 14:38 : "Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak." It is so true! And if you do take the challenge, would you kindly leave me a note so that we could be strengthened in prayer together?

Was lost, but...

It happened on the plane. I was taking a quick stretch break during the stopover when the flight attendant came up to me. "Did you lose a bracelet?" he asked.

"No, I wasn't wearing one." I thought to myself.

But I'm sure a look of horror appeared on my face when I sub-consciously glanced down at my hands. It wasn't a cheap plastic bracelet I lost, it was my ring. 

Dad had given me the beautifully engraved purity ring only a couple months prior. I loved it, and it was a constant reminder to me of both my earthly father's love and my Heavenly Father's love, among other things.

A gift from my earthly father, who loves me very much

But now? What had I done? I believed I had it on when out plane had taken off. After that, I fell asleep, woke up, and then it was gone. I was bewildered. Even I couldn't believe it!

Much to their credit, the airline personnel did what they could to help me, but to no avail. I spent the final leg of the plane ride agonizing.

Beside filing a Lost Item Report when I got home, I decided to add "Find My Ring" to my prayer journal. I might have had quite a bit of faith to start with, but it steadily dwindled each passing day.

Then I finally attacked the chore of unpacking my suitcase. I sat down and folded the piles of clothes, the clean ones, that is. After dumping the dirty ones in the hamper, the suitcase almost looked like what it did before it began the adventure. 

I unzipped the side pockets and pulled out the small miscellaneous items hidden there. About to stow away the empty luggage case, I checked the last pouch. In the deep recesses of fabric, there lay something. Something shiny. Something silver. Something... like my ring? I pulled it out and there it was. I was overjoyed!

Then I woke up. So it was a dream? More flustered than ever, I didn't know what to do. I must confess that I did check the pouch of my luggage, and lo and behold, nothing was there. Should I just keep praying? I'll admit my faith was dissipating quickly, but I did continue praying. 

Then the Lost Item Report came back with a message.

"We are sorry to report that, despite our best efforts, our search for your lost item was unsuccessful, and the report is now closed."

Many months passed, and though I still prayed, there were days when I thought I should just cross out the "Find My Ring" page from my prayer journal.

One morning, I opened my Bible to so my devotions. Honestly, I didn't want to. I was angry at a particular person and I couldn't bring myself to read my Bible.  So I just sprawled on the floor, bitterness boiling inside of me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw something. From the angle I was at, I couldn’t tell if it was my ring, an ordinary key chain ring, or simply a mirage. Unable to contain my curiosity, I quickly grabbed it.

It was a ring. But unlike mine, it was gold in color. And studded with these glimmering things.

I stood up. Was this real? I didn’t know. I put it on my finger. Of course it fit.

I was overwhelmed by God’s goodness. He is too good to me. He didn’t abandon me when I abandoned Him. Instead, He showed me His love in a way I never imagined.

And the ring? It was real, and it’s mine now:)

My devotions? My Bible was filled with more meaning, more depth, more “real-ness” than I ever knew.

Oh, and the bitterness I held? God enabled me to resolve it. How can you hold a grudge when God has done something like that for you?

A gift from my Heavenly Father, whose love I cannot comprehend

It's the little things - Answered Prayers

Sometimes God answers yes when I pray

 Sometimes God answers wait when I pray

 Sometimes God answer no, just because He loves me so

 But I know He always answers when I pray

One of the things that encourages me the most are God's answers to my prayers - often the smallest things. (Note: There are so many more of these, but I just didn't feel like driving myself up a wall trying to putting all into words - writing isn't all that easy, you know:)) 

A few weeks ago, we were volunteering at a Christian organization that processes and ships food to places in need. One of the ways they do it is to sun-dry peaches that are donated to them. We had so much fun helping them process the fruit while we were there. One of the tasks we did was to stack the large trays of dried peaches that sat in the sun. It was a physically exerting task, but I thoroughly enjoyed it... except for one factor. The same sun that dried the peaches so quickly was also drenching me in sweat. On one of these occasions, I prayed that God would send a breeze to lower the temperature. And just like that, a gentle wind immediately blew through the field. I had half-expected it, but it still took me by surprise. I was awed, and just thinking about that incident gave me a great dose of encouragement for days afterward.

Another one of those answered prayers happened a couple days ago, when my Dad and I were on the road. We had just begun to notice the rain clouds darkening the morning sky. For those of you who don't know, rain is a rare, albeit very needed thing in the summer months where we live. At this point my Dad and I were about a hour's drive away from home. I knew that if it was raining where we were then (and it was not), it was likely to be still as sunny as ever where we lived. Although I must confess that my faith was nearly non-existent, I still shot up a prayer and asked God to send rain to our hometown.

Much later that day, we finished the day's activities and headed back home. I was elated to find that thick clouds had gathered over out yard. Though I knew that these clouds weren't exactly promising, I was satisfied that enough of these fluffy-looking things had gathered to darken the sky.

I had almost forgotten my prayer that morning when someone yelled, "It's raining!" 

Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not. -Jeremiah 33:3  

Lessons in a Sunday School Classroom

I'll admit it. Though I knew I was scheduled to teach Sunday School, I definitely did not have adequate preparation. Worse, I was exhausted - spiritually, emotionally, and physically. As I stood there at church during worship, I knew I was in no shape to teach these nursery-aged kids. "God," I silently cried out, "help me."

Meanwhile, I was racking my head for ideas on how to fill the time later that day. There was the Bible lesson, where I had even forgotten the Scripture reference to, the snack, the craft... "The craft!" I gasped to myself, "Where was it?" Was it already in the classroom, or had I left it had home? (I told you I was exhausted!)

Just as I was about to dash out of the sanctuary into the classroom to check the whereabouts of the craft, I felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit again. "Just stay here and worship me. I'll take care of the rest." So, I just stood there as time continued to tick by. All too soon, worship came to an end - which meant it was time for the children's Sunday School.

As I followed the throng of children to the classrooms, I told God something along the lines of, "I'm still exhausted and not any more enthusiastic than I started out. What should I do now?"  His gentle voice replied, "You don't have to feel enthusiastic to be enthusiastic. Enthusiasm = I in you. I am in you. Just believe." "Alright," I answered, nearing the door of the classroom.

The first thing I did was glance around to see if I could locate the craft. Lo and behold, there it was, sitting on the corner of the table.  I let out a sigh of relief as I thanked God, my spirits much higher.

Quickly, we started the first activity.Then amazing things started happening. I was about to go into the Bible lesson when God gave me the perfect object lesson to transition from the first activity to the Bible lesson. And it was age-appropriate! It's not every day that I find an object lesson that two to four year olds understand and enjoy!

I was stunned. After all, it was my fault that I didn't have enough planning. But God, in His great mercy, was still willing to help me. The rest of the time was incredible. The children were attentive and I almost felt like a spectator watching God's goodness unfold. When craft time rolled around, I breathed another prayer of thanks.

P.S. Would you pray for me as I prepare for next week's lesson? :)

Wake up Grumpy?

I peeled opened my eyelids. Morning again? As I stumbled drowsily out of bed, I recalled a quote from one of Living Waters’ tracts – “Sometimes I wake up grumpy; other times I let her sleep." Well, then today was going to be one of the rare days I’m not letting her sleep!

I thought about the long day ahead of me. Coursework, homework, assignments, preparation for various things… And what did you say? I’m supposed to cook lunch as well? Couldn’t my family just be a little more considerate? “God, why is it arranged that I have to cook today?” I pouted. “I'm overwhelmed already! Besides, well… Anyway, it’s unfair!”

And so the day started, dragging pitiful me along. Soon, I was buried (actually, not quite) under textbooks, to do lists, binders, and the like. I did each page of homework with the least passion I could un-muster. Deep down, I knew my attitude was negatively affecting those around me, but I tried to ignore that thought. Then, as you know, the clock and the stomach signaled that it was time to prepare lunch. I groaned. After all, wasn’t this the very thing that ruined my morning?

A while later, I stood before the stove, spatula in hand. As I flung the contents of the pan around (which is, by the way, a bad way to cook), I heard the voice. Not a clear, audible voice, but more like the deep impression of the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit. "Make the joy of the LORD is your strength."

"Not again!" I thought to myself. But this time, I knew better than to argue. At first, I complied rather grudgingly, muttering the words of Nehemiah 8:10 to myself. But then, His joy truly became my strength.  All of sudden, I remembered what I read during morning devotions.  It was as if God had said to me, "Because you cast your burden on  Me, I will, and am, sustaining you." (a very paraphrased version of Psalm 55:22a)

I went from wallowing in the depths of self-pity to soaring on eagle's wings! I could finally see the blessings that God had given me. Remembering one of the "challenges" I had been challenged to do whenever I was in a difficult situation, I made myself think of three things I was grateful for about the situation.



1. Other people were helping me cook lunch that day.
2. We actually have food to eat.
3. I would have something to write about on the blog :)

Unashamed

Break time. I walked across the lab where I was interning at and sat down at the empty desk. Everyone else seemed to be busy – doing experiments, research, or some other thing in their area of expertise, be it cancer or another disease. Bringing myself back to my own matters, I rummaged through the things in my backpack. Ah, forgot to bring that textbook again. Oh well, there are other things to do, I thought to myself as I pulled out the multi-paged scientific paper. Just then, I caught a glimpse of my Bible. “Read today’s Bible reading,” I heard the still small voice say. “No!” I retorted. “That would be embarrassing!”

And so the argument began. The still small voice didn’t seem to say anything, or rather, I didn’t want it to say anything, so I quickly continued. “Look, all, or almost all of the people in this lab are very academic, and I think that they would think I’m incredibly stupid and dumb to be reading out of a Bible, when I could be reading out of this nice, very intelligent looking scientific article! Reading the article would also make me look smart. And besides, the professor might walk in and he will see me, and what will he think? I might get persecuted for this, or worse, bring persecution to others!”

The still small voice picked up again. “Doesn’t the Bible say to rejoice if you’re persecuted for Jesus’ sake? If that happens, wouldn’t you consider it an honor?”

“Ok, so, fine! I’ll read it then.” I let out a sigh of near-despair. Why did that still small voice have to tell me what to do? I mean, I was thankful for it, but to obey it in reality was difficult. But in truth, I had already been convicted even while I was fuming over these thoughts.

But for now, let’s just read today’s passage and get this over with as quickly as possible. I flipped the unmistakable, well worn, black hardcover book to Mark 5-8 and started scanning the pages. Jesus raises Jairus’ daughter to life. Jesus makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak. Jesus feeds the multitudes. “Yes, yes, yes,” I thought to myself, “these well-read stories are all good.” I was about to close my Bible as I read the last verse: “Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation; of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

I was stunned. I read it again. Every word stabbed me to the heart. The word of God is a two-edged sword and I experienced that right then. This had to be written just for me. “Jesus forgive me! I was so wrong. Forgive me for being ashamed of You. Help me to be unashamed of You and Your words.”

I was awed. By the message Jesus gave me. And by the fact that He cared so much about me that He moved heaven and earth to give me that message. He moved heaven – He “breathed” out these words into my Bible, had the Holy Spirit talk to such a rebellious stubborn knucklehead as me, made me read just that verse that day, that hour. He moved earth – He placed me in that predominantly non-Christian lab, allowed me to have that Bible in my backpack, gave me the ability to read. He loves me. And my prayer is that I will be unashamed of Him, to the end.