Star-fish

       My husband has a passion for gardening. Even after numerous run-ins with the tools of his hobby, including stitches, tetanus shots, and even antibiotics due to injuries from wayward clippers and hedge trimmers, he can't get enough of it. Today, as I attempted to garner information on a new, large bandage on his arm, he attempted to elude me. I pursued him and finally he confessed to hitting himself with a crowbar (too long a story to include here). But my response was less than sympathetic, I burst out laughing!  Not exactly the response that gets you "wife of the year" awards. But it seemed like a scene straight out of a Three Stooges comedy act!       In our morning devotions, my husband and I read about people who are passionate about sports, wearing crazy gear and spending enormous amounts of time and money on their hobbies. The author asked whether as Christians we have that kind of passion about following Christ. I started thinki...

Growing up, I met or observed various Christians or ones who said they were Christians and what I saw, even as a kid, didn't impress me. I don't know what in my youth or even young adulthood I was looking for, but it wasn't people who seemed to look down on others for any number of reasons. The Perfect Christian was nowhere to be found, in my eyes, yet many seemed to see me as much less than perfect.  I didn't grow up in a Christian home, so many of the things that longtime Christians took for granted i.e. Christian vocabulary, traditions, and Sunday School songs, were foreign to me. I was invited to church by elementary and high school friends, even a boyfriend in college, but it was a lot...music blaring, hands raised, even some dancing in the aisles and laying on of hands. I was confused and uncomfortable.  Then, at 25 years old, God caught up to me and showed me that what I was looking for in life, wasn't working out and wasn't His best, or even second best,...

       I taught our one-year old Cocker Spaniel to "wait" for her treats or before bolting out the door on a walk. Today, she had torn the head half off her little stuffed moose toy and I was repairing it. She sat patiently watching me thread the needle in and out of her toy, until she could wait no more and started pawing at my hands to release it. I told her to "wait," the command she's familiar with, and she sat back down and waited until I was done and threw it for her. She bound off after it.       My own ability to wait, is much more limited. I can hear the Lord saying to me, "wait," a command He knows I haven't learned well and I paw at the Lord to relieve me of the pain, the problem, or the issues at hand. There's too much time in the waiting. Waiting requires trust, faith, patience, and hope. Sometimes, waiting doesn't seem fair, other times, it's just unbearable watching the destruction occurring in front of me, helpless to st...