Jehovah Jireh in DC

What a privilege to serve the Lord on a mission trip! However, this time I will confess that I was dreading the trip to Washington, DC, primarily because I did not know how I would be of help with a 16 month in tow. I was also nervous about how we would sleep with him in the same room. I was also worn out from a cold and a possible kidney infection.  I was too focused on the negative possibilities. I don’t know when I became so inflexible, but as I prepared for the trip, I prayed the Lord would be stronger than me and use me anyway.

And He was very good! As always! Sleeping with our little man in the room was even worse than I had thought. Our sleep was poor and often interrupted, and Sean ended up in bed with us often. When I lose too much sleep, my digestive system is impacted. I was nauseated and a little sick every morning (and no, definitely not pregnant). The first day, I wanted to cry as I felt so miserable. I cried out to the Lord, and while it was not immediate, the Lord absolutely provided.

Isaiah 40:27-31 is one of my favorite passages, and it came to mind often, especially the part about God giving strength to the weary and increasing the power of the weak. By the second day, I was so aware of God’s provision: a little better night’s sleep gave me the boost I needed. I was leaning hard on His strength and trusting in Him, and it was good.

If I had let my fears and worries stop me from going, I would have missed out on many blessings. The camaraderie of our sweet believers was beautiful. I had forgotten how sweet it was to labor and fellowship daily with others. Everyone was kind to help with Sean and took turns watching him so I could serve and fellowship. It was wonderful to hear the stories of the two couples planting Mercy Hill Church. It is inspiring how they are taking deep leaps of faith, and it is tremendous to witness how God is providing for them personally and in ministry. I was thoroughly blessed to spend time with Amber Spallino while Sean took naps at her apartment, to know her better, and to find out how I could pray better for them.

Another key blessing came from a renewed perspective on kingdom work. As we are learning in our small groups, we need to live as purposeful as a church planter or missionary, but it is too easy to forget in the daily grind. It was a fantastic example seeing how the Spallinos and Clarks live every day to make purposeful relationships with unbelievers and look for ways to bless and serve them. It was invigorating to serve their community by preparing the community garden for the new season. We were also able to help another church with an Easter carnival for the community. It was fun to see how having a child opened up doors to talk to others.

So, there certainly were some tough things about this trip with a toddler, but I am thankful that God took me outside my comfort zone. He showed me His perfect provision. He reminded me of some beautiful ways to trust in Him. I enjoyed and was inspired by other believers, and on top of it all, I got to see some neat things in Washington, DC. I pray that I will utilize these lessons to follow the Lord more deeply in Chattanooga, to live more purposely for His kingdom, and to be willing to be out of my comfort zone and trust the Lord to provide. I pray you will also be willing to be out of your comfort zone to see the joy of God providing.

Judith Graham 

Confessions of a Thirsty Soul

Let’s be real, shall we? I told my husband a few hours ago, “I have no idea what I’m going to write for the church women’s blog today. The fact that I haven’t had my ‘Quiet Time’ even once this week probably doesn’t help.” Mothering three little kids ages five and under is not for the faint of heart. It is an around-the-clock job that allows for little free time, especially because the two oldest no longer take naps.  I get jealous when I see pictures on social media of open Bibles next to coffee mugs in beautiful, serene settings. Who gets to do that? Not me.

               Shortly after that conversation with my husband I got in the car to pick up some left-over clothes from a kids’ consignment sale I took part in. The CD I was listening to was a birthday present from my husband last week – Laura Story’s newest release.  One of the songs that came on caught my attention in light of that comment concerning my time with the Lord. “Speak to me, my heart is open. Speak to me, here in this moment. Above distraction, above the noise, God let me hear Your voice. […] Speak to me, Your Word is power. […]It’s water for the thirsty, power for the weak, shelter for the weary, help for those in need…”

               Can I admit something? Those lyrics describe me: I am thirsty, weak, weary and needy. And I am depriving myself of that which I need most, the Word of the Living God. Sure, I have a good “excuse.” My time is very limited. But can I be even more honest? There are times when I can get in the Word, but don’t, because it’s not the completely ideal setting.  In other words, the oldest two may be playing while the baby sleeps, but knowing that I might have to break up a fight in the middle of reading, makes me not want to even get started with my Bible study.  I also have an amazing husband who gets up with the kids most mornings, so I can stay in bed an extra 30 minutes or so. Would that time be better spent feeding my soul?

               We make time for that which is important. Of course it may be harder in certain life settings, but the principle holds true. While “Quiet Time” may not be so quiet with three little ones in the house, it should not be non-existent.  I may not be peacefully sitting on my front porch with an open Bible in hand and my favorite coffee cup on the little table next to me, but the same truths that speak to the woman on her quiet porch can speak to me on a crumb-filled couch with children’s voices in the background. 

               What about you? Are you like me, longing to hear God speak, but neglecting the greatest opportunity for Him to do so by not reading and meditating daily on His Word? As I start into a new week, may I make the time to hear God’s voice through His written Word.  May I read Scripture, think on it, and plead with the God who loves me to bring water to this thirsty soul, power to my weakness, shelter in my weariness, and help in my need. And if you see me, go ahead… Ask me what He’s been saying.

--Amy O'Rear

Overshadowed!

Overshadowed!

           

            The last six weeks have been very difficult and pain-filled for me, the most intense prolonged pain I have ever had.  So what have I learned from this?  (Thank you, Joyce, Cup of Grace, 2/5/17.)  I loved Sherry’s blog on Scripture memorization.  I love that Jesus promised in John 14 that the Holy Spirit would remind us of what Jesus has promised, and I know that the Holy Spirit cannot bring to our remembrance what we have not learned earlier.

            So Scripture has been very important to me in these weeks.  But the pain level and the medication given to deal with that pain have clouded my mind, have made it difficult to have a rational thought some of the time, made it difficult to bring Scriptures to mind.  One night recently when I could not sleep because of the pain, I tried to quote Psalm 23 and found it took three attempts before I could quote the whole thing.  I have known that Psalm since childhood!

            But the Lord used a different part of the brain to comfort me that night.  I have read that music is processed in a different part of the brain from other things we commit to memory.  I have learned that music goes directly into long-term memory.  I saw this when my father had Alzheimer’s and did not recognize his family, but could sing every word of the Christmas carols others sang.  I have heard songs of comfort in my head as I came out of anesthesia administered during surgery.  But that night when pain had clouded my brain, a song I had not sung since childhood came and comforted me.  Throughout that long night I heard “Overshadowed.”

How desolate my life would be,
How dark and drear my nights and days,
If Jesus' face I did not see,
To brighten all earth's weary ways.

I'm overshadowed by His mighty love
Love eternal, changeless, pure.
Overshadowed by His mighty love
Rest is mine, serene, secure.
He died to ransom me from sin,
He lives to keep me day by day,
I'm overshadowed by His mighty love,
Love that brightens all my way.

Now judgment fears no more alarm,
I dread not death, nor Satan's power;
The world, for me, has lost its charm,
God's grace sustains me every hour.

           

            I’ve told my children that when I get old and have memory problems, I want them to play music for me.  I’ve told them what kind of music I want them to play.  It is these old, old hymns and gospel songs I want to hear.  I want “Overshadowed” to be one of them.

            I am indeed “overshadowed by His mighty love” and “rest is mine, serene, secure,” today and till my life is over.

Faith Himes Lamb

Overshadowed, sung by Andrea Creath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJSheKN9B5w

How to Witness. Or Not.

As we began our Grace Intergenerational Groups study of gospel-shaped outreach, we were asked about a surprising witnessing opportunity. It wasn’t the opportunity that was so surprising, but the outcome certainly was.

Many years ago, Paul and I were members of a church which offered Evangelism Explosion training. It was a very good program for those who like purpose and organization. It helped us try to overcome timidity, as it gave us a deliberate plan for conversation. It had rules, order, direction and a grace-filled use of Scripture.

One particular class day, a lady in our church had called the preacher and told him that her unsaved sister was visiting from Florida and would be leaving the next day. She insisted the pastor come that evening and talk to her sister.

It was a perfect opportunity. My team for the day was the preacher, Brother Wally, another man, Mike, and me. The usual plan was that the group leader would introduce the group and our reason for the visit and then say that another of the group was learning to talk to people about God and ask permission for that one to share what she was learning. This time, that was me.

The moment we walked in the door, the plan blew up. It seemed evident the lady of the house had not informed her sister that we were coming, and Sister was not happy. As soon as the pastor began to talk about God, the sister began to argue. She did not accept any statement he made. Brother Wally is endlessly cheerful, and her anger did not slow him down for a moment. Her continual arguments did derail the conversation, but he would not respond to them. It wasn’t really a “conversation” at all. She would not accept anything he said; he would not respond to anything she said.

I was quite frightened by her hostility; I thought we needed to politely excuse ourselves and leave. Mike never said a word—he was praying. The lady of the house didn’t even speak, which I thought was unusual for her. And so this “discussion” went on. It was the worst thing I have ever “witnessed” in a witnessing situation.

The preacher just kept on happily talking about God, as she kept angrily responding. Finally, he said the most illogical thing of all. The conversation hadn’t even led to it, but he asked her, “Wouldn’t you like to receive Christ as your Savior?” I couldn’t believe he said it! Had he not heard a word she said? The lady immediately cried out loudly, anguish in her voice, “Do you think I don’t want to?”

I was stunned. (Um, yes. That’s what I think.) But, true to form, Brother Wally did not respond literally to her words; he seized the moment. “Let’s get on our knees, shall we?” Instantly, all five of us dropped to our knees around the coffee table, and the woman prayed earnestly to receive Christ.

The next day, on her way to Florida, the lady stopped to call her sister. She said, “Tell that preacher I’m not traveling by myself. Jesus is riding with me.” All these years later, I am still saying, with astonishment, “What happened?!” God happened. Orchestrated. Offered grace. Won.

Our plans, speeches, feelings did not matter. Only our beseeching mattered, and only because He said so. So, let us beseech.

--Lynda Shenefield