Blessing or cursing?

The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life. – Proverbs 10:11 (NIV)
      
      
I never knew his name, but, even now, nearly 30 years later, I can see his shining face, radiant with joy, and hear his words: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.”
      
I didn’t know it then, but that old man, dressed in a Salvation Army uniform, who stood at the entrance to the supermarket, ringing his bell and blessing everyone who put their spare change in the red kettle, had more of an impact on my life than I realized at the time.
      
At first I classified him as a “religious nut.” But he didn’t stand on street corners with a black leather-bound Bible, preaching doom and gloom for sinners. All he did was smile and bless. His entire face radiated a joy I couldn’t understand. How could he be so happy when all I put in the kettle was a quarter?
      
Years later, I realized his words were the priestly benediction God told Moses and Aaron to bless Israel with (Numbers 6:24-26). I was being blessed! I went from snickering to feeling embarrassed to coveting his blessing. Now, I find myself repeating his words when I’m standing on a curb at a crosswalk and someone stops so I can cross the street. Or when another driver signals me to go first.  Or when the cashier actually smiles and acts as though I’m not an interruption. Whenever someone does something kind for me, I bless them.
      
I also find myself praying for others who don’t seem so cheerful. Perhaps that tired-looking salesperson was up all night with a sick child. Perhaps that snippy receptionist at the other end of the line is having a bad day. You just don’t know what worries and troubles folks are enduring. It’s easier to condemn and criticize than to show compassion and understanding. It’s more natural to pout than to pray, to curse than to bless.
      
But that old man showed me just how simple it really is to bless.
      
“Whatever is in your heart,” Jesus said, “determines what you say. A good person produces words from a good heart, and an evil person produces words from an evil heart” (Matthew 25:34-35). James tells us that blessing and cursing should not come from the same mouth. “Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water?” (James 3:10)
      
I still find myself at times wanting to curse rather than bless, especially when someone does something that hurts me. But then I remember that old Salvation Army man, and I smile and begin, “The Lord bless you and keep you . . .”

Because I know, like me, that person needs a special touch from God today.
      
      
Dear God, when I find myself wanting to criticize or curse, remind me that prayer and blessing work much better. Amen.
      

  Special-Tea: Matthew 12:33-37

Numbering My Days

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. - Psalm 90:12 (NIV)
      
      
It was Monday. I blinked. It was Friday.
      
Where has the week gone? I wondered. Indeed, where has the summer gone? Where have nearly 60 years gone?
      
Sometimes I get to thinking about the whirlwind we call life. I look at where and what I am now, and reflect on how I came to this point. I’m happy. I’m content.
      
There’s a difference between happiness and contentment, you know. Happiness comes and goes. Things make us happy (especially new things). Events make us happy. People make us happy. But things get old and in disrepair, and need our continued attention to keep them in usable form. Events come and go, leaving us with nothing more than warm memories (and maybe a new family member). And people—well, we all know people are human, inconsistent, and can disappoint us. We lose people we love—to death, to divorce, to them growing up and moving out, and sometimes to misunderstandings and foolish pride.
      
Happiness, according to my Children’s Ministry Resource Bible, is “feelings of pleasure or contentment that I have when things are going well” (emphasis mine).
      
Contentment, on the other hand, is an ongoing thing. It’s deep-seated because it’s deep-rooted. It doesn’t depend on things, events or people to survive. It’s a state of being. My Children’s Ministry Resource Bible defines it as “being quietly satisfied with what I have and what I am; accepting God’s care and provision for me.” The latter part of that definition is the key to the first.
      
I’ve been blessed, and I can continue to count my blessings, even though our garden is doing horribly this year and we won’t be replacing the redneck porch just yet. Life isn’t perfect. But it’s good.
      
Moses, who had all kinds of trouble in his 120-year lifetime, asked God to teach him to number his days right, so he would have “a heart of wisdom.”
      
A heart of wisdom knows what’s important. A heart of wisdom uses each day the best way and squeezes every drop of pleasure from each moment. A heart of wisdom doesn’t complain (too much) about detours, but enjoys the scenery. A heart of wisdom takes the unexpected and turns it into an adventure.  A heart of wisdom doesn’t fret over things that can’t be changed.
      
A heart of wisdom knows happiness is fleeting and contentment is knowing Who is in control—of today, tomorrow and forever.
      
I like the New Living Translation phrasing of Psalm 90:12: “Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.”
      
Indeed, my stay on earth is too short to focus on all that’s wrong with my life, with people I know, with the country, with the world, but not nearly long enough to number my blessings.
      
      
Satisfy me, Lord, in the morning with Your unfailing love, so I may sing for joy to the end of my earthly life and on throughout eternity (based on Ps. 90:14). Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Psalm 90

       

      

Rough patches

Far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD by failing to pray for you. - 1 Samuel 12:23 (NIV)
             
The dirt road coming in our lane can get rough. Melting snow, hard rains, and traffic all contribute to potholes and soft sections of the road where the dirt gets washed away. Last winter was so bad that my husband dug a small channel across the lane to divert the runoff from melting snow and ice to the ditch alongside.
     
Problem was the more runoff and traffic, the deeper the channel got, and the more I had to slow down, nearly stopping. I complained—nicely—to him until he shoveled some gravel in so it wouldn’t be so deep. But the loose gravel eventually succumbed to relentless spring rains and tires dipping in and out, creating a rough patch I can’t avoid.
      
But rough patches have become a blessing to me. They serve as reminders to pray for others who may be going through a rough patch. And we all have rough patches we go through at one time or another. We all have “stuff” in our lives—stuff we don’t talk about because it’s too personal, too complicated, too embarrassing, too whatever. We all need prayer to get us through the stuff—the rough patches.
      
We all have needs—spiritual, physical, mental, emotional, financial—we all have relationships that need smoothed out, offenses that need forgiven, bad habits to overcome. We all need someone to sprinkle in the gravel of hope in the rough patches of life.
      
So when I drive to town, I pray for the people I know who live in the houses I pass. One day I passed the house of a former teaching colleague. Pray for her popped into my mind. So I did—then and every time I passed her house. A few months later she told me that she’d been going through a rough patch.
      
We are to pray for one another, whether friend or foe, and to pray without ceasing. But you don’t have to pray only during your daily prayer time. You can pray wherever you are, whether you’re at the sink doing dishes, outside mowing grass, or driving to town. God hears you. You don’t have to remember all the prayer requests on lists that get longer by the day. Simply ask God to bring to mind someone who needs prayer. And you don’t have to know the “stuff.”
      
Next time you have to slow down for a rough patch, don’t grumble—pray!
      
      
Thank you, Lord, for the rough patches in the roads I travel. They remind me to pray for others who are going through rough patches in their lives. Amen.
      
      
IDEA: Don’t know how to pray for others? Why not pray the blessing in Numbers 6:24-26 or the prayer of Jabez (1 Chronicles 4:89-10) for them?

Special-Tea: Read 1Timothy 2:1-8

Passing muster

He who hears My word and believes in Him who sent Me has everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment, but has passed from death into life.  – John 5:24 (NKJV)
      
      
This has been a summer of milestones. Anyone who’s had surgery knows what I mean. I rejoiced when I was able once again to prepare supper, do the dishes, make the bed, do the laundry, drive to town, carry something weighing more than five pounds, and sit at the computer for more than 30 minutes without muscle spasms in my shoulders and upper arms.
     
So a solo trip to Minneapolis last week was a real test. Now, I don’t like driving through Pittsburgh, so whenever I fly, my husband drops me off at the airport before work. Which means 5:30 a.m. so he can get back through the tunnels by 6. Which means we leave the house at 3:30 a.m.
      
Since my flight didn’t leave until 12:20 p.m., and I wasn’t too keen on getting up at 3 a.m., I drove to the airport myself. Which meant no help lugging a suitcase, a CPAP machine, my laptop, and a briefcase which doubled as a purse—and you know how heavy a woman’s purse can be. But I divided up the weight and was able to get everything in the Explorer myself without overdoing it.
      
Then, because I don’t like driving through Pittsburgh and my cervical collar would limit turning my head (driving through Pittsburgh, as you know, requires eyes on every side of your head), I took the longer way down—Route 422 West, then I376 East, instead of Route 22. More miles, but less traffic and anxiety.
       
After I checked in, I still had my CPAP, laptop, and briefcase to lug to the gate. I made it with no spasms. But when I got to Minneapolis, the walk to baggage claim seemed endless. I had to stop and rest halfway there. But I made it. When my husband texted me to ask how I was doing, I responded, “I passed muster.”
      
The return flight was a different story. A canceled flight, a delayed flight, and a missed flight brought me home a day later than planned, exhausted but pleased with myself. I’d lugged three bags through three airports and drove three hours one way, and made it home no worse for the wear. I passed muster.
      
I’ve passed muster in the eyes of God, too. But not through my own efforts. To pass muster means to be judged as acceptable. How can I, who still stumble into sin, be judged as acceptable to a holy God? Not by lugging around a heavy load of sin, but by believing that His Son took away that baggage when He died on the cross. His grace alone saved me.
      
Passing muster—being judged acceptable by God—means accepting His grace.
      
Have you passed muster?
       
      
Thank You, God, for providing the way for me to pass muster. Amen. 

Special-Tea: Read Romans 8:1-8