Just For Today

Kenneth L. Holmes penned the famous “Just For Today” that is used by al-anon. His wisdom addresses a one-day-at-a-time approach to life that could certainly be adopted by anyone – not just those struggling with substance abuse. You can read this timeless encouragement at http://www.nhal-anon.org/Just4Today.html .

What are some things that writers could do “just for today”?

 

Just for today

I will recommit to this crazy world of

solitude where my thoughts cannot be ignored.

Just for Today

I will prayerfully delve deeper

into the written Word of the God of the universe.

The Bible

Just for Today

I will seek His wisdom and then sit

silently and wait to hear His still, small voice.

Just for Today

I will ignore the Discourager.

Just for Today

I will encourage others

who seek to be heard by reading

their work and applauding their success.

Just for Today

I will be aware of others whose needs are greater

than mine and return to their world.

Just for Today

I will graciously accept help from those

who give their time to read and critique my work.

Just for Today

I will patiently move toward the

very best I can offer to bring glory, not to myself, but

to the Author and Finisher of my faith,

Jesus Christ.

 

Just for Today

May you be inspired and

your time for writing, protected.

God Bless.

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."



(Psalm 119:105, NASB)

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

These days we hear a lot about self-esteem and being true to ourselves. As a teenage girl (and well into my 20’s and 30’s, I’ll admit) I battled with self-image, keeping it real and avoiding the urge to please people at all costs.

Now, as a woman who’s heard all of the hype and hoopla, tried most of the fads and read many of the books, I wonder about how it all sits with my Saviour. How does He feel about the “real me” and how does He want me to interact with my neighbours while nurturing and honouring His creation? Or is this all a bunch of garbage we’ve cooked up to shove His grace out of the picture and do the fixing on our own?

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; 

your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 

Psalms 139:14 

A Healthy Self Image

When I’m feeling crummy about myself it helps to step into my children’s shoes, to see me as they do. (On a normal day of course, not one of those pull-my-hair-out-triple-espresso-go-to-your-room-and-don’t-come-out-till-your-father-gets-home days, not that I have those.)


They don’t see my saggy body; they see a comfy lap to cuddle in.

They don’t think of my exhausted and frazzled brain; they relish the opportunity to have grilled cheese and soup for dinner, again.

They don’t wish I had more authority at the office or more money in the bank or better clothes in my closet; they just want to hang out, read stories and play board games together, in our PJs if the mood strikes.

How Does God See You?

It’s similar to stepping into God’s line of vision. How does He see us? Can we recognize the beauty and amazing creation in each of us, warts and all? Are we able to see our value in God’s eyes, our unique position and relationship?

I’m not suggesting that God doesn’t know my faults, weaknesses and frailties. He knows them more than any other. And He’s hurt when I succumb to those things, especially when it is detrimental to His kingdom.

What I am suggesting is that those things don’t matter with Jesus in the mix. With His intercession I am not only clean in the Father’s eyes, but a chickadee He wants to spend time with, to use for His work, to teach and guide - in our PJs if the mood strikes.

I could focus on those things that destroy my confidence, drown my joy and darken my mood. I could beat down my self-image until it’s unrecognizable, ugly and of little use to His kingdom.

Or I could ask Him for a glimpse of His vision, a word of His love for me. I could put aside pride and false humility, grasping the coat tails of His grace and allowing myself to be seen for who I really am – an absolutely imperfect sinner, loved by an infinitely perfect God and part of His incredible family for eternity.






thanks for the pic - sxc/cartam

Quality VS Quantity of Life

The experience of seeing my dad struggle with Alzheimer's disease led me down paths of spirituality I'd rather never have traveled. When a terrible disease such as Alzheimer’s waltzes into a family, a major split in philosophy of life can occur.

One group of loved ones may decide quality of life has to take precedence over quantity. How often had I heard people say: "If I had to live like that, I'd rather just go ahead and die."

On the surface, that sounded like a noble and heroic statement, but I'd seen my dad, a good man, struggle to keep each breath and each moment of life he had left, as a holy mission: to honor his Creator with whatever little bit of strength and life he could muster. My late husband wanted to live one more day, one more hour, one more minute, and he did it with far more grace than I think I could have mustered.

The intensity of good men to honor living with their last breath seems to me to be an honest recognition of God's genetic code in them. In a sense, they see each breath as holy; a holy mission from God, because to keep living, in the face of pain and adversity, is do God's will to the nth degree.

I struggled with this quality of life philosophy because, in my dad, I saw God. In my dad, each breath had its beginning with Adam, and that breath came from God Himself. For my dad, the little things still brought him joy, in spite of his body’s limitations. In his illness, all but the barest pleasures, the ones he came into the world with, like the desire to taste, to laugh, and to gaze on his loved ones faces, were often the only things of life he had left. I learned to strip down my definition of the "good" life to mere seconds in the tiniest of moments that could be called "good".

I learned to find great treasure and great worth in seeing Dad cross his ankles and tap his toes because it meant he was content. I would think, "That’s good because it means he’s feeling no pain right now.”

When I would stroke his soft, spiky, white hair, and his eyes would close in comfort, I’d think, “This is good because it means he's feeling my love and concern for him and knows I care." My dad could only remember the moment—nothing beyond–-but I learned that was enough: we would live in that moment together. For a minute or two, life was good, for both of us.

There were sparks of memory in Dad which would surprise me. When I’d see that, I knew his Creator had blessed him and me. I would squelch the selfish side of me that deigned to think there should be more. I learned that the act of living, Dad's perseverance to keep fighting, to sigh in happiness for a simple cup of coffee, was like a holy act ordained and given as a gift by God, and I praised Him for His blessing of life within Dad.

I learned that the bending of my will, and the surrender of my wants, and the sigh from my spirit that said "I let go of how I want Dad’s life to be", was more an act of worship than any other kind of sacrifice I could have offered the Lord. And when I said to God, with hands lifted up, holding nothing but thankfulness, "I am blessed", I gave my heavenly Father one of the sincerest offerings He could receive from me.

Quality versus quantity, the desires versus the reality can be measures of a heart. Living life, holding each little thing as sacred, and offering back to God our loved one's futures, whatever those may be, recognizes the holiness in each soul that comes only from the hand of God.

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. From one man he made every nation of men that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. 'For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’ Acts 17:24-28

Prayer Through the Night

One of the snapshot memories I have is of my mom sitting in the morning sunshine at the dining room table with her Bible, a cup of coffee and her nail file. Why her nail file? She ran a garden center and her nails took a beating. I have a feeling she tended them while she prayed sometimes, and I know she prays for me even now, maybe even while working on her nails. I rely on Mom's prayers, knowing they've helped pull me through many sticky situations.

When my husband and I moved from Illinois to Pennsylvania, Mom prayed. Our two trucks and an open trailer were loaded and there was no way to secure them while we slept, so my husband determined it would be best if we drove straight through. He could've done it, but I couldn't—endurance was not my strong point.

It was in the middle of the night when the trailer tail lights quit working and we had just entered the mountains of Western Pennsylvania. I needed to stay right behind my husband, who was pulling the trailer, so the semi's could see and pass us as they roared past us, picking up speed for the long hills—and I tried, but it was a losing battle.

At one point I realized my husband was no longer in front of me and when I looked at my speedometer I saw I was below the minimum speed for an interstate highway. As I stepped on the gas I was praying he was safe—I was also asking God to wake up my mom so she could pray for me. I was terrified a semi would run into my husband and that I would fall completely asleep and run off the side of the mountain. Many twists, turns, and long hills later I caught up to him, but several other times, in my exhaustion, I fell behind again. Yet throughout that long night God kept us safely on the road.

The next morning, after arriving at my sister's house, Mom called. Once she knew we were safe, she told me she hadn't sleep well—she kept waking up, thinking about me, so she had prayed through much of the night. If I hadn't been so tired, I would've done a snoopy dance.

Mom prayed me safely through those mountains, as well as through many other mountains in my life. And Mom is still praying me through. What an example she's set for me, an example I endeavor to follow.

We all know the verses “And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?” (Matt. 6:27 NAS) and “casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7 NAS) but so often we're worrying before we even realize it. I cringe to think of all the opportunities for prayer that I've lost because I'm too busy worrying. That's exactly what the enemy wants: wasted opportunities and and less prayer.

Many times as I sit to take care of my fingernails, the sight of an emery board reminds me to pray, and after seeing how God woke up my mom to pray me through those mountains, I ask God to keep me sensitive to the inner call to pray for others, even when I don't know what's going on in their lives. Prayer is one of the best things we can do and one of the best gifts we can give—even when it feels like we aren't doing enough.

How about you? Are there things that remind you to pray instead of worry? Is there a time when you desperately needed prayer and God stirred someone to pray for you, without knowing what was going on?

The Curious Case of the Sunken Keys and the Piano Tuner

(To get you started- click here, then press play (the triangle). A little background music.)

It was a typical Spring afternoon. The morning chorus a little quieter due to the impending rain. And in the middle of our semi-tidy home stood our foster piano.

You mean Foster Piano? That’s a brand name?

No, reader, it’s a foster piano. We’re its foster parents. My husband’s aunt didn’t have room for it in her new home and wasn’t ready to give it away completely. We agreed to be its foster parents. You know, give it a good home and treat it like we would any other cherished piece of furniture, knowing all the while, we have to relinquish custody should the family come back for it.



Photo Credit: Stock.Xchng

Oh. A foster piano.

Yep. Now, let’s get on with the story.

So… in the middle of the house stood our foster piano and I dreaded the imminent house call. The piano tuner was coming. It felt like a combination of taking our piano to the doctor (sure to get a terrible diagnosis) and having a visit from Piano Protective Services (sure to find out we were in violation of proper piano care).

You see, our piano had a case of sunken keys. Not just one key, but three. And like any good piano parent, I’d Googled the symptoms. Top two suspected causes? Some kind of piano disease where a creepy mold eats away at the felt under the keys or vermin. And frankly, the two options weren’t so far out of the realm of possibilities for us. I tried to prepare myself for what was going to be a bad visit.

The piano tuner arrived with this little grey box. Piano doctors still make house calls. But, like in the old days, this doctor knows our whole family. If something was wrong, and it was our fault, the rest of the family was sure to find out. But it was too late. I took a deep breath and explained our sunken key situation and that I already knew what was most likely causing it (me and poor housekeeping).

Like any good professional he opened the top of our upright to take a look. He smiled.

This man is evil. He just spotted the decay or evidence of vermin and KNOWS I’ll be doling out a huge check at the end of this. Restrain yourself man.

He reached his hand in. “I love it when it’s this simple,” he grinned. And just like Tom Thumb, he was plum pleased when he pulled out a screwdriver. His own, no less, that he’d left in there from his prior visit. Instantly, our piano was cured.

He finished tuning our piano. Tightening and loosening strings to make sure every note played in tune and finished by playing a beautiful melody to show it was indeed ready to play for another year.

I will admit, I went into this with my analytical eyes. What kind of message was there in this? I was ready to share about the kind of decay and infestations that happen while we’re not looking or we’re too busy with other things- ignoring what’s happening on the inside.

But, God’s sense of humor came out to play.

What if asking God to tune our hearts, our souls, isn’t the big deal we’ve made it out to be? I sit there squirming. I just know that my heart is riddled with decay, just knowing that I’ve let darkness chew away at the supports that allow me to make beautiful melodies. I sit there waiting for the certain prognosis of “lost cause”, hand back your Christ Following Membership Card please.

But then God shows up, all professional. God peeks inside and grins. Not the sinister “ha ha, I’ve got you now!” smile but the Staples commercial “that was easy” one. In goes God’s hand and out comes this little, simple thing. And once it’s out, the tune up is easy and painless and it feels good, and who can keep from singing beautiful melodies once the stretching and tweaking is done?


Photo Credit: Stock.Xchng

"Sing, Daughter Zion; shout aloud, Israel! Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,

Daughter Jerusalem!" Zephaniah 3:14 (NIV)

(If you want a contextually appropriate fuller text, this one hits the spot- all about the presumption of awful and the inner beasts taking over and learning that God already has it under control and will easily and triumphantly set things right.)

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10 (ESV)

[Now you can click on that video again and watch it this time. It's a beautiful video.]

Life Driving 101

With my son just finishing Drivers Ed and starting to drive, and a daughter hot on his heels, I've been giving them instruction and pointers as I drive. Today's tidbit was going to be where to look when a car is coming toward you on a narrow, two lane road. But as I opened my mouth to start sharing my great wisdom, God flashed His neon 'Listen up!' sign that He has just for me.

You tend to steer toward what you're looking at, so if you focus on the car coming toward you, you'll run right into it. If you focus on the center line, you'll either hug the center line or ride right in the middle of the road, and we all know that straddling the line just doesn't work—especially when someone's zooming at you. So, you look at the white line or right down the center of your lane.

I seem to be in a transition time in my life, and I've been concerned about following the right path. I don't want to go the wrong way and I don't want to run into, or even scrape against, something. I want to follow God's way for me and I don't want to straddle a boundary line He has set out.

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2 (NAS)

I never did share with the kids where to look while driving—I was too busy absorbing God's reminder that if I just focus on Him, and Him alone, I won't have to worry about crossing the line into on-coming traffic. Keeping my eyes fixed firmly on Him will help hold my course steady.

Leave It All Behind

The past few months, I’ve been in an emotional slump. For lots of reasons. To sum it up, I’ve been parched, my heart and soul scorched by recent trials. How many of you have been there? Maybe you’re in that place right now. Feeling burnt out in the midst of your circumstances.

This past weekend, I attended my church’s women’s retreat. The theme of the event was “Thirst” with teaching based upon the story of the woman at the well from John 4:1-26

It was just what I needed. The reminder that only Jesus can satisfy. He is the only one who can quench my parched soul and soothe the burns on my heart. I needed the encouragement to stop lugging burdens upon my back and hand them over to God. When I let go of what I’m holding on to, He will take those things away. In its place, He gives me the peace and satisfaction I’m longing for.

One of the songs we sang at the retreat was “The Well” by Casting Crowns. They say what I want to tell you so much better, so take a few minutes and listen.

What do you need to bring to Jesus today?

Take it to the well and leave it behind as you drink from the living water He provides.

“The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail” (Isaiah 58:11, NKJV).