The Ice Storm

On January 4, 2005, the worst ice storm in decades hit Wichita. Over three quarters of an inch of ice coated the area, downing power lines and plunging more than 60,000 homes and businesses into darkness. The icy outdoors created a surreal fantasy world, with homes, grass, trees, streets, and mailboxes painted with a clear, icy glaze. Trees bent over, their limbs dragging the ground under their heavy loads. Many, unable to bear the load, snapped, littering roofs, yards, sidewalks, and streets with their crystal branches. By Saturday, the clouds cleared; nature’s ice castles sparkled brilliantly, their prisms of ice flinging crystal colors everywhere.

Saturday afternoon, I ventured outdoors to watch the sun glisten off the icy trees. Everything drooped under the weight of the ice—according to newscasters the ice was four times the weight of the trees it covered. The trees bent so far from the tips of their branches brushed the snow-covered ground. I stood in the middle of the back yard and gazed at the trees surrounding me. The sun, striking the ice-covered branches, turned my back-yard world brilliant, but what really struck me were all the new sounds. As I stood there, a whole chorus sang. The main melody: the constant drip, drip, drip of water falling from thousands of icicles. All around me I heard this constant dripping as the sun melted the ice. With the breeze, the click and clack of ice-covered branches brushing each other added to the tune. Plop!  I turned and looked at trembling tree branches, freed from their weight of ice. Every few seconds I heard another plop as chunks of ice tumbled to the ground. Occasionally a loud crash resounded as a large ice fragment hit the branch below and tumbled from branch to branch before landing on the softer earth. Before long, I noticed the lower branches of the mulberry tree no longer touching the ground. I wondered how long it would take before all the ice melted from the trees, and the branches, freed from their burden, would once more reach heavenward.

How often do our souls become ice-coated?  We are burdened and bent over, not with the weight of ice, but with the weight of our guilt and our sins. Heavy with guilt, we labor to lift our arms heavenward. Some, unable to bear this burden, snap and break. Others merely look down, unable to praise God. Fortunately, we can eliminate the burdens weighing us down. Like the sun shining on the ice-laden trees, God’s grace frees us from our burdens. When in repentance we sincerely beg God’s son to shine his light of forgiveness, the hard shell of guilt begins to crack. Before long, the hard shells of ice coating our souls melt. Soon we can raise our arms heavenward, look up and praise our maker.

Father, thank you for melting away my heavy burden of guilt.

The Unopened Gift (reprise)

Remember the last time you received a gift-wrapped package from someone?  Picture the box, wrapped in iridescent white paper, and tied with a beautiful bow. When you were handed this gift, what did you do?  Did you open it immediately, eager to see what was inside?  Did you want to personally thank the one who gave you such a gift?  I suspect that most would open the gift right away so the giver of the gift could see the pleasure on your face as you received this present. But did you ever take a beautifully gift-wrapped package, put it on a shelf or in the closet, and leave it there unopened?  I can’t imagine doing such a thing, can you?

If you gave a gift to a loved one, would you be offended if that person never opened it?  Would it bother you if you paid a good deal of money to purchase this gift, only to have it sit, unopened, on the shelf?  Or what if you hand-made a gift, and spent countless hours laboring, in love, to create something special?  Would you be upset if the recipient of this gift didn’t even open it?

The one who longs to give us good gifts is God, your heavenly father. We are quickly able to receive His gifts of love and peace. We may at times neglect to use these gifts, but we have opened them and have expressed our gratitude to God for His generosity.

 

There is one gift from God, however, that we often find difficult to open:  the gift of forgiveness. Psalm 86:5 (NKJ) says, “For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all those who call upon You.”  Unfortunately, many of us believe that our sins are just too terrible, so we cling to them. We know God forgives sins, but He surely won’t forgive this?   We just can’t force ourselves to untie the bow and tear open the paper to receive the gift of forgiveness. Sometimes the problem is that we can’t forgive ourselves. “How could I have ever done that horrible thing?” we might wonder, and the beautifully wrapped package stays on the shelf, untouched.

God paid a great deal to give each of us this gift of forgiveness. He spent a great deal of time laboring on this gift as well, thirty-three years, as a matter of fact. For thirty-three years God’s son lived as a man on this earth, away from His home in heaven. That’s a long time to work on a gift of love. And He paid a high cost for this gift, too: He paid with His life. Don’t you think He would want us to open this gift?

 

Father God, forgive me Forgive my many sins, both those I have recently committed and those of long ago that I harbor in my heart. Help me accept Your gift, wrapped in love and the sacrifice of Your son. Help me take it off the shelf, unwrap it and accept the forgiveness inside.

I John 1: 8-9 “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

 

The Ice Storm

On Tuesday, January 4, 2005, the worst ice storm in decades hit Wichita. Over three quarters of an inch of ice coated the area, downing power lines and plunging more than 60,000 homes and businesses into darkness. The icy outdoors created a surreal fantasy world, with homes, grass, trees, streets, and mailboxes painted with a clear, icy glaze. Trees bent over, their limbs dragging the ground under their heavy loads. Many, unable to bear the load, snapped, littering roofs, yards, sidewalks, and streets with their crystal branches. By Saturday, the clouds cleared, and the sun on nature’s ice castles sparkled brilliantly, their prisms of ice flinging crystal colors everywhere.

Saturday afternoon, feeling housebound, I ventured outdoors to watch the sun glisten off the icy trees. In my backyard, everything drooped under the weight of the ice—according to newscasters the ice was four times the weight of the trees it covered. The mulberry trees bent so far over from the weight of the ice, the tips of their branches brushed the snow-covered ground. I stood in the middle of the back yard and gazed at the trees surrounding me. The sun, striking the ice-covered branches, turned my back-yard world brilliant, but what really struck me were all the new sounds. As I stood there watching and listening, a whole chorus sang. The main melody: the constant drip, drip, drip of water falling from thousands of icicles. All around me I heard this constant dripping as the sun melted the ice. With the breeze, the click and clack of ice-covered branches brushing each other added to the tune. Plop!  I turned and looked behind me at trembling tree branches, freed from their weight of ice. Every few seconds I heard another plop as chunks of ice tumbled to the ground. Occasionally a loud crashing resounded as a larger ice fragment hit the branch below and tumbled from branch to branch before landing on the softer earth. Looking at the ash tree by the corner of our vegetable garden, I witnessed hundreds of drops glistening in the late afternoon sun and plopping to the ground; the tree wept. Before long, I noticed the lower branches of the mulberry tree no longer touched the ground. I wondered how long it would take before all the ice melted from the trees and the branches, freed from their burden, and would once more reach heavenward.

How often do our souls become ice-coated?  We are burdened and bent over, not with the weight of ice, but with the weight of our guilt and our sins. Heavy with guilt, we labor to lift our arms heavenward. Some, unable to bear this burden, snap and break. Others merely look down, unable to praise God. Fortunately, we can eliminate the burdens weighing us down. Like the sun shining on the ice-laden trees, God’s grace frees us from our burdens. When in repentance we sincerely beg God’s son to shine his light of forgiveness, the hard shell of guilt begins to crack and stir. Soon, tears of gratitude flow, just like the weeping trees. Before long, the hard shells of ice coating our souls come crashing down. Soon we can once again raise our arms heavenward, look up and praise our maker.

Father, thank you for melting away my heavy burden of guilt.

Psalm 38:4 "My guilt has overwhelmed me like a guilt too heavy to bear." 

The Road to Resurrection: Seven, In the Garden, a Disciple

If only I had known. If only I had known what would happen next, I would have stayed awake. But the night was dark and cool and the wind blew softly on my face. Before Jesus walked past the nearby olive trees to pray alone, He even said to us, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death….Stay here and keep watch” (Mark 14:34). He walked a few yards away and knelt on the ground to pray. Did I stay awake and pray with Him? Did I keep watch for my good friend? No, I’m ashamed to say, no. I stretched out on the cool, soft grass and laid my head down. I closed my eyes, just for a minute, I said to myself. And I went to sleep. The next thing I knew, Jesus was at my side, looking so sad.

Again He asked us to stay awake, watch, and pray. He walked a short distance away and fell to the ground, praying, beseeching God to take a cup away from Him. I didn’t understand what He meant, but He sounded so distressed that I tried desperately to stay awake for my friend. But my eyes were so heavy that I just couldn’t keep them open. Once again, I failed Him. I slept while Jesus prayed alone.

After He awakened us again, He asked us once more to watch and pray. I tried so hard; I really did. I blinked my heavy eyelids and thought about my Jesus praying nearby. Alone, He struggled with something, praying out loud, calling to God. And what did I do? I deserted Him. I put my head down and once more fell fast asleep.

He again returned to find us sleeping. When I awakened I could hardly believe how Jesus looked. In the moonlight on this cool spring night, I saw his brow beaded with sweat. But when He came closer I realized His brow was not covered in sweat, but instead it was covered in drops of blood. How Jesus must have struggled with His prayers while I slept. I closed my eyes again, this time in shame. Tears of regret ran down my cheeks as I realized I had deserted my Jesus in an hour of great need.

Mark 14:41, 42 Returning the third time, he said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

Food for thought: Consider how difficult this night must have been for Jesus. Like the disciple, how often have you “slept” when you could have prayed or helped someone with your actions? Jesus forgave his disciples for sleeping through His hour of need. Have you asked Him to forgive you for inactions? Have you forgiven yourself?

 

The Unopened Gift

Remember the last time you received a gift-wrapped package from someone?  Picture the box, wrapped in iridescent white paper, and tied with a beautiful bow. When you were handed this gift,what did you do?  Did you open it immediately, eager to see what was inside?  Did you want to
personally thank the one who gave you such a gift?  I suspect that most would open the gift right away so the giver of the gift could see the pleasure on your face as you received this present. But did you ever take a beautifully gift-wrapped package, put it on a shelf or in the closet, and leave it there unopened?  I can’t imagine doing such a thing, can you?

After you gave a gift to a loved one, would you be offended if that person never opened it?  Would it bother you if you paid a good deal of money to purchase this gift, only to have it sit, unopened, on the shelf?  Or what if you hand-made a gift, and spent countless hours laboring, in love, to create something special?  Would you be upset if the recipient of this gift didn’t even open it?

The one who longs to give us good gifts is God, our heavenly father. We are quickly able to receive His gifts of love and peace. We may at times neglect to use these gifts, but we have opened them and have expressed our gratitude to God for His generosity.

There is one gift from God, however, that we often find difficult to open:  the gift of forgiveness. Psalm 86:5 (NKJ) says, “For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all those who call upon You.”  Unfortunately, many of us believe that our sins are just too terrible, so we cling to them. We know God forgives sins, but He surely won’t forgive this?   We just can’t force ourselves to untie the bow and tear open the paper to receive the gift of forgiveness. Sometimes the problem is that we can’t forgive ourselves. “How could I have ever done that horrible thing?” we might wonder, and the beautifully wrapped package stays on the shelf, untouched.

God paid a great deal to give each of us this gift of forgiveness. He spent a great deal of time laboring on this gift as well, thirty-three years, as a matter of fact. For thirty-three years God’s son lived as a man on this earth, away from His home in heaven. That’s a long time to work on a gift of love. And He paid a high cost for this gift, too: He paid with His life. Don’t you think He would want us to open this gift?

Father God, forgive me. Forgive my many sins, both those I have recently committed and those of long ago that I harbor in my heart. Help me accept Your gift, wrapped in love and the sacrifice of Your son. Help me take it off the shelf, unwrap it and accept the forgiveness inside.

I John 1: 8-9 “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is
not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and
purify us from all unrighteousness.”

Deep Tissue Massage

Recently I had a deep tissue massage. I had thought it would be just like a regular massage, only with more pressure. Not so! The therapist began by placing her elbow into one of the large muscles on my back and putting all her weight on me, pressing hard on the knotted muscle. From there she applied pressure all over the back, shoulder, arms and chest, even between the ribs. I’ll be honest here—it hurt! But as she applied the pressure, I could feel the knotted muscles loosening. I endured the pain, knowing it would result in greater comfort.

Physically, I feel better after a massage, but how does one massage away spiritual knots and pains? All of us have those pains, both recent and long ago, that flare up on occasion and keep us knotted up with sins of worry, fear, pride, anger, bitterness, or unforgiveness.  When we feel those spiritual knots of sin, we go to our heavenly Father for a spiritual massage. Yes, it will be painful, but afterward we will feel much better. The more often we visit our “masseuse,” the better we feel. During our spiritual massage we confess our sins, and ask for God’s forgiveness. Only then will His strength loosen the knots within us.

I John 1:8 & 9 “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

Mired in the Muck

After an extremely dry fall and winter, it finally rained. All day the water poured from the heavens in a steady stream. Water ample enough to soak the earth and fill the streams refreshed the dried landscape.

I waited for a couple of days after the rainfall to venture out to the nature trails. Many of the trails are sandy, so I hoped it wouldn’t be too muddy for my walk. Fortunately, most of the trails were dry enough to walk without totally coating my shoes in mud.

 Occasionally, though, I passed those dark curves in the pathway where the sun rarely shines, and where there is no sand. In these wide, shaded places the pathway was nothing but dark, oozy mud. Carefully, I skirted around those muddy quagmires, stepping on grassy spots, twigs or rocks to keep from sinking into the muck.

As I maneuvered around the muddy places, I remembered a time, as a little girl, when the mud was oh, so attractive! Walking in my rubber rain boots, I loved to squish through the mud, thoroughly enjoying the gooshy, slippery black mess. On one occasion, however, I learned not to stomp through the mud.

On that day I stepped into the middle of an especially gooey mud puddle, and stepping forward, I heard a loud sucking noise. My foot refused to move, for my boot was totally captured by the squishy mud. When I struggled to release my boot, my foot came out of my shoe and my boot and I found myself in the middle of the mud puddle with neither boot nor shoe. My feeble little-girl strength was not enough to extricate my boot and shoe from its muddy confines. Fortunately for me, my older, stronger brother (after a good laugh at my expense) pulled my boot out of the mud and I was able to continue home. Once there, I had a muddy mess to clean up before I could step one foot in the house. That day I learned not to walk through mud puddles.

Adults generally steer clear of the mud when they can. It’s the metaphorical mud that becomes enticing. As we wander on life’s pathway, we will invariably get stuck in the mud. At times, we all like to wander into the muck and get dirty. What is that mucky mess we wander into? That varies, depending on the person and the pathway he or she walks. Some of us step into the middle of self-righteousness—“my way is the right way and I won’t listen to anything else.” Others love to wallow in guilt, self-pity, or gossip. Still others become mired in the muck of addictions: food, material goods, entertainment, pornography, alcohol, cigarettes, or illegal drugs.

Whatever mud lies in the pathway, it is wise to avoid it at all costs. Once we step into the middle of that mud puddle, we become hopelessly mired in the muck. Fortunately for us, there is One strong enough to get us out of the muck, help us find our way home, and cleanse away all the mud.

I John 1:9 “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all righteousness.”

 Oh, Lord, guide our footsteps and keep us out of the mud.