Seven Months: How to Enjoy the Season You’re In

December 4, 2013January 23, 20142 Comments

Seven months.

She asked me to take on a new responsibility and normally I just do, I say ‘yes’ and add it on to the stuffed-to-overflowing to-do list and cram it onto the overcrowded calendar.

But this time, I answered, “Seven months.”

This is the season I’m in: a season of no more and not now. For seven months, what I have is what I can do. And then, who knows? God will direct the steps.

For now, though, my life is packed full and I must invest myself fully here with this blessing of a new baby, a new book, and three daughters in school and after-school activities that dictate our schedule and keep me in the car driving here and there for hours in every day.

It’s the best advice my mom ever gave me as I awaited the birth of my firstborn babe when I, in my innocent pre-motherhood state, thought I knew what being a mom meant and the sacrifice it required.

I didn’t, of course.

She told my young, naive self: “Everything is just for a season.”

The advice sounded good enough at the time, something to tuck away for another day perhaps.

But I didn’t realize the depth of the wisdom here or how I would return to this as a promise of hope on the hard days…

when I’m finding it hard to breathe because of the clutter and mess
and the noise is drowning out my own sane thoughts
and I’m longing for a ‘quiet time’ at the kitchen table but settling for a quick devotional-on-the-go while waiting for preschool to end
and dinner is macaroni and cheese from a box instead of the gourmet meal I found on Pinterest
and I’m lacking in sleep and feeling like a mess and groaning about laundry and dishes.

Ecclesiastes made it clear:

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).

“To everything – turn, turn, turn
There is a season – turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven”

That’s how The Byrds sang it in the 1960’s and the song jingles around in my head when I consider the wisdom of this.

There is a season. And one season follows another just as surely as day follows day. Nothing is forever. God makes all things new time after time after time.

It’s been my mantra as a mom.

Sleepless nights….potty training….terrible two tantrums…

A season. Only a season.

A messy minivan and hours outside the ballet studio, endless noise, sibling rivalry, homework, and diaper changes.

A season. Only a season.

I think aloud to a friend about my life right now and she reminds me of my own words,

“I’ve heard you say it often, that this is only a season.”

She echoes it back to me and I realize how often I give that advice to others, sharing the wisdom with them that my own mom gave me.

But I realize something else on the good days—

when my baby is cooing so sweet and tosses me a smile that stops time for that moment because I love him so
and my children work together and play together sweetly and my heart dances with pride in their beauty and strength
and we laugh at the dinner table and tell stories of our day and I think how precious is this gift

Seasons come and seasons go, but God is in every one of them. Yes, in this season of sleeplessness and carpooling….and this season of baby giggles and child songs.

I could grit my teeth, grip the wheel white-knuckled, and hold on tight until this season of busyness passes me by or I could revel in the joy, yes–here, yes—now.

There’s such beauty in this season of watching my children grow, discover, learn, and transform every day.

All too quickly this passes me by.

I could endure the frantic pace of it all, but so much better to enjoy the blessing of it all.

This season you are in right now, whatever it may be, does it chip hard at your rough edges and wear heavy down on your soul at times?

Perhaps you are weary some days.

Maybe you are feeling raggedy, lost, and alone on others.

Hear this sweet breath of hope when you feel the suffocation:

This is only a season, going and then gone.

And hear the urgency of this challenge:

This is only a season; revel in the joy of it, even the joy of knowing God is with you even in this.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

On the Air: A Radio Interview About Ask Me Anything, Lord

December 2, 2013January 23, 20141 Comment

He asked me which question was the hardest to write about….

I sat across from the morning show host of the radio station WXGM (99.1 FM) and was chatting about my new book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Lives to God’s Questions.

It’s a book about how I, the queen of all question-askers, learned to stop talking so much and started letting God ask me questions.

God asked other people questions throughout Scripture.

To Adam and Eve, He asked, “Where are you?”

To Elijah, He asked, “What are you doing here?”

To Peter, He asked, “Do you love me?”

Our God is a relation-builder, a reconciler. Right from the beginning, Adam and Eve made a mess of things, disobeyed Him, and hid in the garden. How could they be so foolish, thinking a few fig leaves could hide their whereabouts from an omniscient, all-powerful God who had made them just days before?

But God didn’t lecture, chastise, yell, or rain down fire on them.

Instead, He sought them out with a simple stroll in the garden and this asking: Where are you?

He didn’t ask because He didn’t know. He didn’t ask for His own benefit.

He asked to show two wayward children who trembled in fear and hid in shame among the foliage that He loved them. He still desperately wanted relationship with them, and He would go to great lengths and make the ultimate sacrifice in order to draw all of us back to Him.

These questions of God’s are all through the Bible, and when we let Him ask them of us they root out fear, help us overcome shame and insecurity, and promise God’s presence and faithful provision in whatever circumstance we face.

So I sat across from the radio host last week, a copy of my book about God’s questions sitting on the desk in front of him. That’s when he asked me, “Which one was the hardest to write about?”

I knew right away what to answer.

It was God’s question to Cain: “Where is your brother?”

When I wrote the book, I had so many questions in Scripture to choose from. God is such a question-asker. He fills Scripture with His patient pursuit of His people. So, I had to leave some out. I couldn’t cover them all, not in one book anyway.

I didn’t want to write about Cain. What could we have in common, after all? The first murderer and a middle class minivan mom like me?

It seemed like an easy topic to skip over, too irrelevant to my life to pay it any mind.

Yet, even though I wanted to skip God’s question to Cain, I couldn’t. I knew God wanted me to write about it, and once I started typing on that blank word processor all about it, I couldn’t stop.

Community, after all, can be messy. Relationships are prone to failure. They trip us up with their pits and obstacles and shaky ground. We shove into each other’s space, stepping on toes, bruising egos, making assumptions and getting it wrong.

That’s what Cain’s story is about, really, about how his discontentment, jealousy and unforgiveness grew to disastrous levels until he exploded in rage and destroyed another person….and himself.

Over time, I realized just how much God needed to ask me the same question that he asked this first murderer in history.

Heather, where’s your brother? Where’s your sister?

It turns out that Cain and I have far more in common than I realized…surely far more than I wanted to admit.

Jealousy….anger….comparing the ministry of someone else to my own meager-looking offerings….defensiveness….whining….broken relationships….needing to forgive others….needing to be forgiven.

That was Cain.

It’s me sometimes, too.

Maybe you’ve been there also. Maybe you’ve been Cain.

Or, perhaps you’ve even been Abel, subject to the cruel lashing out of someone who’s been hurt or overlooked.

I don’t know who needed the reminder that day while I chatted on the radio or even who needs to know this today, but God created us for community with Him and community with others. When that’s broken, it rips apart our testimony, it distracts us from ministry purposes, and it taints our offering with bitterness.

So, God asks us this question: Where is your brother? Where is your sister?

And He reminds us that He loved people…messy, sinful, broken people…enough to die for them.

Enough to die for me.

Enough to die for you.

If He loved us that much, surely we should love others, too, even when it’s hard and requires repentance or forgiveness, admitting we’re wrong or trampling our own pride.

In the end, the hardest of God’s questions to write about became one of the questions that taught me the most.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now!
To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Devotions for Thanksgiving: Thank You for This Day

November 29, 2013November 20, 2014Leave a comment

Every year, my daughters’ preschool teacher pulls the children aside individually and asks an important question:

What are you thankful for?

As a mom, I’ve grown accustomed to the tradition. The week of Thanksgiving, I can check the bulletin board outside of the classroom and see what crazy thing popped out of my child’s mouth in that one moment with her teacher.

I think I’ve only ever had one year where a daughter was thankful for me.

Image by Rudy Bagozzi; 123rf.com

Mostly, they’ve been thankful for loose teeth or funny things their dad does or some toy that I never see them actually play with. Last year, my girl was thankful for her stuffed animals.

Thanksgiving tends to highlight what’s important to us, usually family and friends more than toys, but still we’re motivated to be grateful at least one month, or week, or day out of the year.

Some of us start Thanksgiving journals and gratitude lists. Others post daily Facebook status updates of what we’re thankful for this year.

We’re sincerely excited to acknowledge the blessing and it’s beautiful in its season.

One of the things I love about my little girl, though, is that she isn’t just thankful for stuffed animals when the teacher pulls her aside for the annual preschool Thanksgiving assignment.

Every single time she prays, she begins with, “Dear God, thank You for this day.”

Mealtime prayers, bedtime prayers, prayers in June or in December, if it starts with “Dear God” and ends with “Amen,” she’s thankful for the day she’s had. Time-outs, sadness, fights with her sisters, none of that can mar her thankful heart.

I’m reminded of Daniel, who prayed in a similar way in Babylon. Despite exile far from his beloved Jerusalem and his family, despite political intrigue and plots against him, despite religious persecution and antisemitism, still Daniel prayed.

And he didn’t just plead and petition God for help in the midst of sorrow or stress.

He “knelt down on his knees three times that day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as was his custom since early days” (Daniel 6:10)

He prayed on his knees. Three times a day. Every day. Not so everyone could see, but in a manner people could notice if they chose to look his way.

And he “gave thanks.”

That’s why King Darius knew there was hope for Daniel even after he was shut up in a darkened den of ravenous lions and locked in overnight.

The King trusted in the God “whom you serve continually” (Daniel 6:16, 6:20) and his trust was not misplaced.

Daniel’s faithful, day in and day out, no matter what the circumstances, continual determination to get down on his knees and give thanks to God was blessed in that moment. God sent the angel to slam shut the jaws of the lions until Daniel could be lifted out of the pit unscathed.

It might seem that the miracle was the reason to give thanks, and that’s what King Darius did, issuing a proclamation of praise to the “Living God” of Daniel.

But Daniel had been giving thanks all along.

Thanksgiving is over this year. We’ve feasted and visited family and friends. We’ve probably thought and even shared what we’re thankful for this year.

But I don’t want to just be a once-a-year grateful girl.

I want to be thankful for this day and the next and the one after that, regardless of the circumstances or annoyances or even fears.

I want to make it a discipline and attitude and habit of mind and heart to give thanks to God, maybe three times a day, maybe 20 times a day.

I want people to refer to my God as the one “whom I serve continually,” not periodically, or seasonally, or around the holidays.

When they see the lions’ den, I want people to know my God can rescue and deliver.

Don’t you?

If that’s our true desire, then our first step is today. When everyone else has finished the annual mantra of thanks and the turkey is reduced to leftovers and others have moved on to Christmas lists and shopping, we make a choice to be thankful.

Today we choose to pause and give praise, give specific thanks, notice God at work and drop our head for a whispered moment of gratefulness. We choose to look past the obvious and the bothersome or scary, to see reasons to thank Him “for this day” every…single…day of the year to come.

Seven Thanksgiving Verses

November 28, 2013January 23, 20145 Comments

Happy thanksgiving to all of you! Thank you for your prayers, for your encouragement, for your support and thanks be to God for His many blessings and His character of faithfulness and love! I hope you enjoy these Thanksgiving verses as you celebrate this year!

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever (1 Chron. 16:34 NIV)

Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving,
Let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.
(Psalm 95:2 NASB)

And in that day you will say,
“Give thanks to the Lord, call on His name.
Make known His deeds among the peoples;
Make them remember that His name is exalted.”
(Isaiah 12:4 NASB)

I will give thanks to You, O Lord my God, with all my heart,
And will glorify Your name forever.
(Psalm 86:12 NASB)

Enter His gates with thanksgiving
And His courts with praise.
Give thanks to Him, bless His name.
(Psalm 100:4 NASB)

The Lord is my strength and my shield;
My heart trusts in Him, and I am helped;
Therefore my heart exults,
And with my song I shall thank Him.
(Psalm 28:7 NASB)

I will give thanks to the Lord with all my heart;
I will tell of all Your wonders.
Psalm 9:1 NASB

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now!
To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Devotions for Thanksgiving: Bitter Ingredients and Pumpkin Pie

November 27, 2013January 23, 2014Leave a comment

Almost all of my favorite Thanksgiving memories aren’t really of the feast itself, even though I still say it’s my favorite holiday. Mostly I grow nostalgic for Thanksgiving Eve and the Wednesday night family baking sessions we had as a kid.

There’s something deeply relational about baking, whether it’s for someone or with someone. I find myself even now telling stories as my daughters stir and imparting generational wisdom like: why the butter and sugar get creamed together first and how you have to pack down brown sugar when you measure it out.

Hugely important life lessons like that.

And maybe I learn something, too.

The last time we crowded around the table to make pumpkin pie, my oldest asked, “Mom, what does pumpkin taste like by itself?”

She thought it would be sweet heavenly golden goodness. After all, this daughter and I share a passion for all things pumpkin—pies, breads, cookies and cupcakes.

But I knew the dark secret about pumpkin and I tried to warn her, “You can try it if you like, but just a small taste. It’s bitter.”

She licked a tiny bit off her finger and made the appropriate “nasty” face.

How can something so incredibly delicious in everything we bake be so horrible on its own?

I pulled out the vanilla and she bravely tasted the tiniest droplet of that also, despite the grimace over the pumpkin.

Yup, vanilla doesn’t fair any better on its own.

She even smelled each of the spices before we measured them into the bowl. It turns out that cloves, nutmeg and ginger are more potent than sweet and more pungent than enticing.

The eggs were runny, sticky and gross.

The salt was…well, salty.

All in all, it was utterly mystifying when we finished stirring and I handed her the spoon to lick, which she popped into her mouth with a muffled, “Yummmmm.”

The truth about baking is the truth about life. We have a reason to be thankful for every ingredient, even the ones that seem too bitter or salty or potent to turn into anything mouth-watering and delicious.

As Christians, most of us have not only heard Romans 8:28 a million times, we’ve probably quoted it a few thousand times ourselves:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose (Rom. 8:28 NKJV).

You may have even just skimmed through that verse just now because you’ve heard it so often and know it so well.

And yet, we tend to emphasize the “for good” part of this verse, which means we could be expecting instant pumpkin pie when life hands us a can of Libby’s pumpkin.

That job you lost, how can that be for good?

That time of sadness, that mourning, that separation and grief, the broken relationship and the conflict…..tastes so bitter. It doesn’t seem possible for any of it to be “for good.”

Philosophically, we know the deal. We’ve heard the sermons. Maybe one day we’ll see how God turned these times of sadness and stress into blessing. Maybe it won’t be until heaven, but at least then we’ll be able to see the good that came from the ugly.

It’s a long, hard lesson, realizing that “for good” doesn’t necessarily mean “right now” or “without pain.”

But it’s true, of course. There are eternal perspectives and long-term visions that we just can’t see from our limited, finite looking glass on circumstances so up-close and personal.

There’s something about this verse that we often overlook, though. God isn’t just working “for good,” He’s doing it so that “all things work together.” The good comes from the mixing of ingredients, the pooling together of the circumstances into one beautiful wholeness—His plan and will for Your life.

Rick Warren says it this way:

“The events in your life work together in God’s plan. They are not isolated acts, but interdependent parts of the process to make you like Christ….If you will give God all your distasteful, unpleasant experiences, he will blend them together for good” (The Purpose Driven Life, p. 195).

I’ve had Thanksgivings where gratitude came easy, practically gushing out of me in response to blessing.

And there were years where thankfulness was a discipline of the soul, a determined trusting in God, a sacrifice of praise.

Regardless of whether this year is easy or harder for you, remember that the pumpkin, the eggs, the salt, the vanilla, the spices aren’t delicious on their own.

But trust–and give thanks–that God will bring everything together and it will be sweet and for your blessing and beyond what you could imagine.

Originally published November 21, 2012

Devotions for Thanksgiving: Secret Messages, Whispered Thanks

November 25, 2013January 23, 20142 Comments

I wanted to write.
She wanted to paint together.
I sat down to answer emails.
She wanted to do puzzles together.
I vacuumed and washed and folded.
She dragged the Play-Doh bucket from the playroom so we could make pizza Play-Doh…together.

Writing projects, church projects, house projects, studying, filling out forms, answering emails, drafting letters, returning phone calls…I had my agenda.

And she had hers, as she handed me a game she couldn’t play on her own and asked for help. Maybe we could do it together?

Somehow I managed to perform periodic cleaning sweeps through the house in between requests for “together” this or that. We ate lunch at the school with her older sisters together (of course) and took a trip to the library after school with everyone.

Bedtime arrived and I kissed them all sweetly and patted their heads, read the book(s), prayed the prayer and tucked them into beds. Then I flopped down into the chair, glad that somehow the house had ended the day clean-ish so I could work on other projects now in my “free time.”

One brief moment of peace passed before I heard the sounds of fighting, ending in screams and tears.

Following that, the post-fight therapy with daughters began, about whether they are loved as much as their sisters, and how come she gets away with this and didn’t I hear the mean things she said?

Even the time that’s supposed to be free really isn’t when you’re a mom. Sometimes the whole idea of achieving balance seems like dreaming the impossible dream. When you’re truly responsible for other people, little people whom you love completely and utterly, you’ll be emptied out over and over again. Where’s the balance in that?

The truth is life isn’t about balance at all. It’s about putting people first.

I can’t say that I’m ending this day feeling very accomplished or on top of things, but then usually the most important things in life can’t be crossed off a to-do list.

Yet, as we sat there having lunch at the school, my three-year-old climbed up in my lap and curled up tight. Her breathing slowed and drew in deeper and deeper until her head flopped forward into the crook of my arm.

I scooped her up, carried her to the car and then into the house after the drive. If it’s possible for a tiny girl to coo, she did when I settled onto the sofa with her in my arms.

Then I whispered into her ear what I’ve said to my children hundreds of times since their birth: “I love you and I’m so thankful to God that He let me be Your mom. You are God’s great gift to me.”

Sometimes I’m telling that to wiggly daughters who have zoomed by me in their dash from the kitchen to the bedroom. I’ve reached out my hand, pulled them close and told them the secret message again and again.

Other times, I’m whispering it to sobbing girls, upset, angry, hurt or feeling unloved.

“I’m thankful to God for you.”

We all have people who need to hear those words from us: Teachers, friends, moms, sisters, dads, children, mentors, caregivers, coworkers, husbands….

Paul teaches us this in his letters to the churches. He writes with encouragement and challenges, correction, doctrine, and personal testimony, but also with thanks for the very people reading these words.

To the Corinthians he wrote:

“I always thank my God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus” (1 Corinthians 1:4).

To the church at Thessalonica, he said:

“We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thess 1:2-3).

So often, we skim through the beginning and end of Paul’s letters, rushing through the personal notes so we can dig into meaty questions of doctrine and theology.

But people mattered to Paul. That’s clear when you actually read his thoughtful recounting of the service, ministry, teaching, faithfulness, and generosity of individual people and the church as a whole.

Even when he was tired out from ministry and abandoning his own plans or agenda in order to jot off a letter to a beloved church in need, Paul always took the time to say, “I thank God for you.”

During this week of Thanksgiving, don’t just post a Facebook status thanking God for your husband and kids. Don’t be satisfied with saying just one word of gratitude before you pass the turkey and mashed potatoes.

Tell others how thankful you are for them here and now. That’s more important than anything else on your agenda for the day.

Who needs to hear you say, “I’m thankful for you” today?

Originally posted on 11/19/2012

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now!
To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Thanksgiving thoughts while watching the Antiques Roadshow

November 22, 2013November 24, 2014Leave a comment

“He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things”
Psalm 107:9, NIV

There’s that moment on every Antiques Roadshow when the appraiser pushes his glasses back on his nose and leans in with excitement. “So, as to value . . .” he starts. And the item’s owner looks up with cautious anticipation.

This expert, who has spent all day telling people their precious items aren’t really rare or one-of-a-kind, that their genuine treasures are copies and fakes, that grandmother’s fascinating brush with fame never really happened—this expert places a breathtaking value on an object.

A thing.

A material substance made a treasure because it is unique, somehow special because of the famous person who owned it, or so wrapped up in story and history that the ordinary, everyday is transformed into a retirement fund.

I’ve seen rugs on that show worth more than my house.

At times, I watch that “thing” now deemed a treasure and I wonder—what is hidden in my garage and stuffed in my closets? What bookshelf conceals my children’s college education? In what closet could I discover my dream home?

But, I’ve been through all my stuff and it is actually just stuff, perhaps priceless to me and valuable in my life for its utility or the way it connects me to the past, but nothing an appraiser would lose his breath over or call his buddies about.

So then I wonder, how is it that we human creatures can look at tangible objects formed of wood or stone or cloth and so arbitrarily place on them a price tag?

This one picture costs as much as feeding a village of people in Africa.

The cost of this antique toy could build a well in a village with no clean water.

Seems like something’s wrong here. Seems like the way we assign value is a little off.

That’s one of our problems, really. We don’t really know value when we see it most of the time.

And so when God pours Himself out for us and blesses us with good gifts, we sometimes mistake them for not enough and seek out everything that is “other” to fill us up instead.

We keep telling Him we are empty and hold our hands out to Him for more, more, more. He offers us all that is good and true wrapped up in His presence, but it seems so simple and plain. Not enough.

Meanwhile, we gorge ourselves on everything we believe will satisfy the deep yearnings and cravings in our hearts.

We pour into our hearts:

success
possessions
romance
position
friendships
successful kids
knowledge
food
entertainment

And it just seeps out of our souls, flowing out as quickly as we can dump it in. We don’t value what God offers as much as this worldly buffet of good eats around us. It’s ingratitude. It’s sin.

Ann Voskamp writes in One Thousand Gifts:

Satan, he wanted more. More power, more glory. Ultimately, in essence, Satan is an ingrate. And he sinks his venom into the heart of Eden. Satan’s sin becomes the first sin of all humanity – the sin of ingratitude. Adam and Eve are, simply, painfully, ungrateful for what God gave . . . Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren’t satisfied in God and what He gives. We hunger for something more, something other.

It’s like the Israelites trekking through the desert. God rained down on them wafers of honey they named manna, miraculously, faithfully and abundantly every night as they sleep. It’s tasty and satisfying, nutritionally able to sustain them through long desert marches for 40 years.

And yet, they complained. “We remember the fish we used to eat for free in Egypt. And we had all the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic we wanted” (Numbers 11:5, NIV).

Nothing they owned, used or ate in Egypt was free. Everything came at high cost to them–they exchanged hard labor and 370+ years of bondage in slavery for fish and a salad bar.

Seems like something’s wrong here. Seems like the way they assigned value was a little off.

Adam and Eve were not satisfied with the fruit God had given them for food.

The Israelites were not satisfied with the manna God miraculously laid at their feet every day.

We aren’t always satisfied with God’s Word, with His promises to us, with His provision, with His direction.

Yet, Scripture assures us that God is fully satisfying.

“And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8, NIV).

“These all look to you to give them their food at the proper time. When you give it to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are satisfied with good things” (Psalm 104:27-28, NIV).

He “satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s” (Psalm 103:5, NIV).

Have you felt empty, thirsty, hungry, plagued with holes that never allow you to be filled—not with joy, not with peace, not with hope? We are offered the Bread of Life and buckets of Living Water drawn up from a well that will quench our thirst eternally.

We are offered Christ. Christ abundantly sufficient for our needs. Christ the once-for-all sacrifice to cover all our sins. Christ our Peace. “Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15, NIV).

Originally published as God’s Indescribable Gift on 4/11/2011

The Discipline of Resting Not Rushing

November 20, 2013January 23, 2014Leave a comment

I’m tempted to rush.

This one day I have this time and the temptation is there to fill it right up with more activity, more going and more doing.

Most days, I don’t have this luxury, of course. It’s the mad morning scramble of toothbrushes, hair brushes, ribbons, bows, socks, shoes, lunches and backpacks to send two older girls out to the bus stop.

Then, buckle a preschooler and a newborn into the minivan for the drive to school and errands or meetings or Bible studies or appointments or whatever busyness has etched itself onto the day.

But this day. This one day.

After I watch my oldest girls step onto that school bus, I return to my home and breathe in and out this uncertain freedom. I don’t have to drive to the preschool. I don’t have to meet an external agenda or deadline until the afternoon.

So what to do?

Rush through my home, stuffing laundry into the washing machine and another load in the dryer? Frantically move cereal bowls from sink to dishwasher and then grab the broom (maybe the mop if I’m inspired). Respond to messages. Catch up on the to-do list. Fill out the forms.

So it goes, me filling up this one little space of time with too much, cramming in activity and sitting on the lid in hopes it will fit.

My tea, poured hot this morning turns cold.

My morning devotions, rushed through just to be done, leave me unfilled, uninspired, unopened to what God wants to say.

Too busy…too busy…just always too busy.

But today I consider Joshua.

Moses met with God face-to-face in a tent. A pillar of cloud covered the entrance while the Israelites looked on from the flaps of their own tent dwellings, bowing in worship in the doorways.

When Moses finished talking with God, he returned to the camp to share the message with others.

Not Joshua, though.

“his assistant, the young man Joshua son of Nun, would not leave the inside of the tent” (Exodus 33:11 HCSB).

He wouldn’t budge from the glory and the presence, lingering there stubbornly while others moved along.

What if I chose to linger here….chose to be Joshua refusing to leave the tent as long as God’s glory electrified the air….chose for this one day to be Mary at the feet of Jesus rather than Martha slamming pots in the kitchen?

Because serving perpetually means serving empty and that means dying of spiritual starvation and dehydration.

We need the Mary moments so we can re-enter the kitchen as Martha and care for others cheerfully and ably until we have that opportunity once again to lay down the dish towel and sit at Jesus’ feet.

It’s not practical, of course.

That crowd of more than 5000 who sat on the hillside listening to Jesus hour upon hour should have been watching the clock. They should have known what time it was and how long they had to travel back for food. They should have abandoned the sermon and packed up their blankets and lawn chairs at a reasonable time so they could eat dinner at a reasonable hour.

Yet, Jesus rewarded their time in His presence.

Had they left early, they would have missed the miracle.

In order to witness God’s glory, they had to wait, they had to sit patiently and linger there until they received.

In Living Beyond Yourself, Beth Moore writes:

“He placed them in a posture to rest in His provision. He commanded them to “sit down” and fed only those who were “seated” (vv. 10-11) . . .”Are you ‘sitting down’ in a posture of trust and sitting quietly to receive it? If so, prepare the baskets!”

For me, it’s just this one day a week to take my morning slow before the afternoon and evening wave of stress and busyness crashes down again.

For you, it may be a morning, a day….even a season of sitting and waiting on that hillside so you can see His glory, or a season at Jesus’ feet instead of in the kitchen, or a season of lingering in the tent.

Whatever the length of the wait and the stillness, it’s a discipline to rest rather than rush.

When we remain there, though, insistent on lingering where His presence is, we see His glory displayed and He fills us up with the sustenance of His presence and His Word.

But only when we wait until He says it’s time to move on.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now!
To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Ask Me More….Do You Believe This?

November 18, 2013January 23, 20144 Comments

“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God” John 14:1

For some reason when I clean, I clean fast. No slow and methodical wiping of the rag or scrubbing of the dish for me.

So, yesterday I snatched up the trash bag with an upwards yank, dropped it on the floor, tied it up in record time and dashed out the front door, hopped down the front steps, tossed open the trash can lid, plopped the trash bag in, released the lid so it crashed down and kept on walking in one nearly unbroken stride.

Unbroken, that is, until I stepped down on what I thought was solid ground, but was really a sink hole courtesy of our friendly front yard mole. My ankle twisted in an unexpected direction. I felt the wince of pain as I almost hit the ground.

Now, fortunately, it was just a momentary shock of pain. In a few seconds I was limping down the driveway for the mail. A minute later I was back to the sport of Extreme Cleaning with no long-term damages.

But life in its way is no less unexpected and sometimes no less shockingly painful.

It can be as simple as the surprise pitfalls in a single day. Like the fact that my house was passably clean when we awoke this morning. Then my three daughters painted beautiful artwork, and each other, and the chairs, the table, the carpet, their clothes. After an unplanned mid-morning bath, all of the paint flecked off their bodies onto the bathtub.

Surprise! Suddenly my day became a whole-house scrub-down and laundry marathon.

It can be as paralyzing as a life-changing twist. The phone call with bad news. The hack to your budget. The visit to the doctor. The sputter of a car. The removing of a wedding ring.

Somehow in the middle of this topsy-turvy, always uncertain, shake-up of a world, the Psalmist wrote:

“My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music” (Psalm 57:7, NIV).

Reading the preceding verses makes it clear, David wasn’t treading on a comfortable path when he penned this Psalm. He wrote these particular words “when he had fled from Saul into the cave.”

So, how then, could his heart be steadfast? How could he be “firmly fixed in place, immovable, not subject to change, firm in belief” while running for his life from the powerful king of an enemy? (Merriam-Webster).

And what about us?

Those minor unexpected annoyances in my morning left me cranky and quick-to-snap.

Major upsets to my plans and life cost me a night of sleep.

Steadfast? Not me. Not hardly.

The trouble is that the steadiness of my belief seems utterly dependent on the ease of the path I trod.

It’s not dependent enough on Him, My God, My Firm Foundation, My Solid Rock.

Martha sank deep into an unexpected pit when Jesus didn’t heal her brother, Lazarus. Instead, she left the place of mourning over his death in order to confront Jesus about it privately. “’Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’” (John 11:21).

Jesus knew just what to ask her: “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (Luke 11:25-26).

Did she believe this? Did she believe that Jesus was more than a nice friend and successful religious teacher? Did she believe in Him was resurrection and life?

Could she put aside her emotions and declare that no matter how she felt, she could trust God?

Martha regained her footing on this shaky ground by stating her belief: “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world” (John 11:27).

Yesterday, I felt the familiar suffocation of fear at some unexpected news.

Today, I experienced the all-too-familiar bad attitude over some twists in my day.

And Jesus asks me, “What do you believe?”

He asks the same of you.

You may be tempted to spout off the Nicene Creed or fall back safely on the answers of a good Christian girl.

Really, though. Truly. Honestly.

What do you believe?

Shaky ground and a loss of footing are always signs of belief problems.

It means:

we’ve been putting our faith in ourselves, in others, in our circumstances.
we’re relying on our own plans.
we’re depending on our own strength.
we’ve bought into lies somewhere along the way.

As you catch your breath after a fall, steady yourself by reaffirming the truth.

I believe God loves me, always, unconditionally, fully.
I believe that God’s grace covers over all my sins.
I believe that I will never go through any circumstance alone; God will never leave me nor forsake me.
I believe that He can do anything, even more than I could ever imagine.
I believe that even when I see tragedy, God is working on my behalf and for my good.
I believe that God will be glorified in every situation.
I believe God will provide for my every need.

This is what we know is true, no matter what we may feel. Therefore, we can trust God.

Originally published as Twisted Ankle, Twisted Truth on 11/7/2011

The Letters You Are Writing

November 11, 2013January 23, 20141 Comment

I wonder what she would have called my baby boy.

Peanut.

That’s what I decide.

My youngest daughter would approve. She likes to call him Andrew “Peanut” King and whenever she does I think, “Yes, Ms. Shirley would like that.”

Ms Shirley called my first baby, “Princess.” It was premonition, I think, knowing this tiny newborn would be a ballerina princess who only wore dresses from the ages of two to six.

Week after week, Ms. Shirley spoiled my daughter rotten in our church nursery, earning her own nickname: “Church Grandma.”

Later, when I gently handed my second daughter to Ms. Shirley at the nursery door, our Church Grandma announced that her name would be “Precious.”

Then one Wednesday night my oldest daughter clung to Ms. Shirley while screaming in hysterics, wanting to stay in the nursery with her rather than come home with us—her very own parents!

That was the last time we really saw Ms. Shirley other than a hospital visit after her car accident on Veteran’s Day weekend all those years ago.

I guess Victoria knew in her Spirit that God was calling her Church Grandma home and didn’t want to leave her side one second too soon.

I think of Ms. Shirley all the time, certainly when I walk away from the nursery door and always on Veteran’s day weekend…

And when I held my third daughter as a newborn and thought, “Pumpkin. Ms. Shirley probably would have called you Pumpkin.”

Now my son. Surely she would have called him “Peanut.”

She left this deep imprint on our lives, so deep I can still feel the tenderness of her memory years after she last held my children and gave them nicknames.

This is the power of legacy.

And I think, as I sit here now, that legacies so rarely involve fame on a grand scale or power or high position.

They involve people.

Ms. Shirley loved my children. That’s how she poured out a generous abundance of blessing on me, a young mom trying to serve in the church.

Yesterday, I sat in our church library overwhelmed by God’s goodness and the sweetness of our church family. Next to me sat a pile of my very own books on a table.

I signed copy after copy of that book for others, fully aware each time as I put the tip of that pen to the paper to sign my name:

How humbled I am.

How this is God’s grace.

Writing a book is a special God-blessing, but I fully realize as I cuddle my baby boy and as I kiss my daughters as they head off to school:

I’ve been writing all along.

The apostle Paul told the church in Corinth:

Your lives are a letter written in our hearts; everyone can read it and recognize our good work among you. Clearly, you are a letter from Christ showing the result of our ministry among you. This “letter” is written not with pen and ink, but with the Spirit of the living God. It is carved not on tablets of stone, but on human hearts. (2 Cor. 3:2-3).

No matter how much I write in my life, no matter how successful (or not), no matter how much or how little impact my words may have, my greatest writing is written on human hearts.

So it is for you, as well.

Anne Ortlund wrote:

You know, the longer I live the more I realize that all that’s important in this life is God, and people, and connecting the former with the latter. I’m willing to shed a lot of things to strive after the Important (Disciplines of a Beautiful Woman).

I read this, too, in The Love Dare for Parents:

Your body will age. Your clothes will become dated…..But the waves of your life and influence will continue to live on and ripple through the hearts, minds, and faith of your children (p. 198).

We are so often glorifiers of fame and students of worldly success, but impact always trumps personal glory.

Ms. Shirley taught me that by serving in a church nursery.

I’m learning that every day as a wife, mom, and friend.

We all are writers on human hearts and the messages we imprint on the lives of others are the greatest ‘work’ we will ever produce and the most beautiful offering we could give to God.

Never forget what matters, not while you care for a newborn, potty train a toddler, answer a preschooler’s questions, help a child with homework, love them through the difficult days and the joyful moments.

Never forget it as you serve in the church for little glory or recognition that the letter you are writing is beautiful, precious to God, and worth more than any bestseller.

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

"He's solid rock under my feet, breathing room for my soul" Psalm 62:1-2 (MSG).

Tag: Faith

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