He Said, She Said - Eddie Jones & Cindy Sproles

The Hot Rod of God -- He Said

“…your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” - Psalm 23:4b

Listen to The Hot Rod of God


In first grade Mrs. Swartz spanked me for drawing on the floor during nap time. I don’t recall if the principal paddled me, too. He probably did. I was a habitual offender when it came to school rules. So you can understand why, as I child, I wasn’t “comforted” by God’s hot rod.

Step out of line, whack. Break a commandment, smack. Chew gum, choke. In my mind, God taught first grade and wore glasses, a frown and hair spray that smelled like paint remover.

Then a friend introduced me to God’s Good News and I began to see that God spent more time saving, restoring and comforting his children than He did correcting them. The wrath of God was real, but so too, was His love.

When His children reached a “dead end” on the shores of the Red Sea, Moses lifted God’s rod and the waters separated. When His people faced the Amalekites, Moses raised God’s rod and Israel defeated their enemies. Later, as they wandered the desert in search of water, shade, and a decent Chinese restaurant, Moses used God’s rod to strike a rock. Water gushed out creating the first desert fountain around which God’s people built the Bellagio resort.

So yes, God’s rod corrects us, but it also provides deliverance, strength and provision.

What dead end confronts you today? What enemy threatens to overwhelm you? What need leaves your soul parched? Ask the Good Shepherd to lift His rod on your behalf, pull you close with His staff and cradle you in His arms.

We serve a powerful God. Let us call on Him to fight for us.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Coincidence or Not? – She Said

“…your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4b

Listen to Coincidence or Not?

The busses pulled into the gravel parking lot, crunching over the grape-sized rock. A smile crossed my lips as the laughter and songs of 75 girl scouts rang across the pass.

With STAFF written across my shirt, the clipboard and whistle weighed heavy with the responsibility that lay ahead. I glanced across the dock at the canoes, paddles and life jackets. A quiet voice whispered, “Be afraid.”

I loved outfitting, but each new pack of novice kids was frightening.

The girls marched down the sloped bank to the dock as Dale, Rod, Randy and Lindsay each counted out a small group. Ironic that we had an outfitter named Rod and when he wore his Staff shirt, we just called him David.

“Shucks. Odd number.” I said.

“I know. Makes it hard?” Rod dropped his arm around my neck. Looks like it’s you and me to make the group.”

A dark-haired girl sat with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Rod coaxed her friends toward the life jackets while I sat next to her.

“You nervous?”

She nodded.

“Me, too.” I leaned onto my elbows. “I always get nervous when it comes to the boats and kids.”

“Really?” She said.

“It’s a big responsibility knowing your mom and dad trust your care to me.”

“I dreamed I fell out of the boat last night.” She held up her fingers. “I was this far away from the dock before I sank under the dark water.”

I flipped my clip board over and handed it to her. “Read that.”

“The lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.”

“Skip that,” I said, “Start here.”I underlined His rod and staff they comfort me. She read the sentence.

“See that guy? That’s Rod. See his shirt—it says STAFF?” The girl grinned. “You don’t think having a guard named Rod was a coincidence, do you? We had to hunt hard to find him.”She stood and walked toward Rod. I saw her mouth his name as Rod winked and nodded she’d be okay.

I’ve been afraid, too—unsure about the dark waters I was about to enter. Was it deep? Could I manage the current? Would God lead me out there then abandon me? He never has. Every step I take He protects. Sometimes He lets me wander but He never lets me get out of sight without calling me back.

And unless I decide to trek out on my own, I rarely get hurt. Even at that, God is still there to pick up the pieces.

Was it a coincidence that we had a staff member named Rod that summer? Don’t know, but his presence served as a constant reminder that my Shepherd is always close at hand and I have nothing…absolutely nothing to fear.

Eddie Jones and Cindy Sproles are friends and co-founders of ChristianDevotions.us. They co-write the popular He Said, She Said devotions and host BlogtalkRadio's Christian Devotions Speak UP! along with Marianne Jordan.

And now you can catch them each Friday evening at 7 p.m. on He Said, She Said Radio! (Call in number, 646-929-0706 ). They travel with Christian Devotions Ministries teaching the art of writing devotions at writers conferences across the country. Eddie and Cindy are featured in Spirit & HEART: A Devotional Journey.




Publisher: Lighthouse Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-9822065-1-5

Perseverance: True Voices of Cancer Survivors

It’s always been said that children are resilient. Their simplistic and positive look at life lifts them above the norm, helping them achieve what the average person could not fathom. Perseverance and determination line the fiber of the young adults whose stories drill into the hearts and latch hold of the very soul of the reader. Carolyn Rubenstein has taken the stories of young cancer survivors and dug deep into the heart and mind of their desire to overcome. In this passionate and compelling book, PERSEVERANCE, the reader will learn to define the boundaries of the impossible and then soar above it. The voices and individual stories will change your heart.

This is a MUST READ for anyone dealing with the hardships of disease. More so, it's a better read for those who have never suffered the pain or loss of a friend or loved one to cancer. Your heart will be moved and your compassion ignited as you read the stories of young cancer survivors and how they pushed themselves to persevere and succeed.

Click on the book to purchase.

What's Not to Like? -- He Said

"Then He went down and talked with the woman, and he liked her."
Judges 14:7

Listen to What’s Not to Like?


He went. He saw. He liked. Yes, this pretty much describes the way men pick-up women.

Oh, I know, you'd like to think that we men are a little more discerning, that we want to know you as a person or at least if you can speak in complete sentences. But this is not important for men. Not at first anyway.


Let's say there's a guy, who we'll call Elmer, and he's out with some guy friends. Across the room is a voluptuous blonde in a short skirt wearing a spandex tube top that's stretched way beyond the fabric's tensile strength. Her name is Tina. Tina's skin is baked a golden brown from repetitive trips to a tanning salon and her naturally brown hair is bleached the color of honey.


Sitting next to Tina is her best friend, Hilda. Hilda is wearing a one-piece jumper that appears to be made from an old army tent. Her face, in color and texture, looks like the surface of the moon, and on her head appears to be a hat made from a very large rodent. Perhaps a rodent or a Canadian Hockey player. On closer inspection Elmer realizes this is Hilda's hair.


Now who do you think Elmer is going to ask out? This question is for you women. We men already know the answer.


It doesn't matter that Hilda is a nuclear physicist with a degree in advance molecular quantum physics, and has in fact walked on the surface of the moon. She could be the Head of the United Nations, and have actually developed an alternative fuel from Styrofoam packing peanuts. It doesn't matter to Elmer.


That's because later that evening, while sitting on the sofa in his tiny apartment, Elmer will fantasize about how Tina almost said "yes" and would have, except the words "drop dead" came out of her mouth first. He'll also picture them frolicking in a hot tub together. This is unfortunate because at the same time Elmer is thinking about a girl he'll never date, Hilda will be sitting in her small apartment thinking that Elmer is really cute.


If he'd have just said hello, given me a chance, she'll say while eating Cheese Whiz straight from the can, he'd see my inner beauty.


In a perfect world, Elmer and Hilda would met, date, marry, and raise a litter of hairy hockey playing girls. But life isn't fair. It's fractured by sin.


Men look at the outside, rarely seeing the heart of a woman the way God does. Perhaps if men took the time to talk more and lust less we'd find the inner beauty buried beneath the Cheese Whiz. It worked for Samson, Abraham, and Jacob. Maybe it will work for you, too, mister.



Eddie Jones





http://www.christiandevotions.us/audio/WhatsNottoLike.mp3

Spirit & HEART - Christian Devotions Newest Release

From the authors of Christian Devotions comes the first in a series of 30-day devotionals focusing on the image and attributes given to us by God.

Within the pages of Spirit & HEART: A Devotional Journey are passage markers to guide you into a deeper, more intimate relationship with the Father. Included in this compilation are devotions by Eddie Jones and Cindy Sproles, plus, Christy award winner Ann Tatlock and best selling authors, Loree Lough, Yvonne Lehman, Ginny Smith, Irene Brand, Shelby Rawson, and Ariel Allison.




Just in time for Spring!

ISBN: 978-0-9822065-1-5


Retail: $9.95
SPECIAL pre-order price: $7.95 + $3 shipping

Contact us at books@christiandevotions.us and give us your mailing address and the number of books you would like to order. We'll include an invoice with the shipment. You can also mail your order to: Christian Devotions, P. O. Box 6494, Kingsport, TN, 37663.



And don't forget to encourage your friends and church to purchase a copy. Spread the word; advance the Good News of God's grace!>

Devotionlist -- Pat Patterson

The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!" He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. Mt 8:25-27

"How long was she under?"

"Five minutes?" the teenager cried. "Maybe more, I don’t know!"

I scooped my patient out of the water and laid her on a dry portion of cement beside the pool. The pretty little pig-tailed girl with chubby cheeks and dimples looked to be about eight years old, and as cute as a button, but her lightly freckled face looked dull and colorless, her eyes as lifeless as a plastic baby doll’s.

"I only took my eye off of her for a minute," her sister exclaimed. "I’m so sorry! Is she going to be all right?"

"Quick," I said tearing open the plastic wrapper for an Ambu-bag. "Get the monitor." My partner grabbed the EKG monitor and removed the electrode cables. "Somebody start compressions." I placed the resuscitator unit over the patient’s mouth and gave the bag a squeeze. Her chest rose and fell. Water trickled from the corner of her mouth. One of the firefighters removed his helmet and knelt by my side. He placed his hands on her chest and started pushing against her breastbone with a verbal cadence of one, and two, and three…

"Folks," I heard my partner say, "please stand back. Give us room." He pulled the backing off of a sticky electrode pad and attached it to one of her legs. He repeated the process on each of her other limbs while the firefighter and I performed CPR. "Okay," he said turning on the unit. The EKG monitor beeped. A harsh, erratic, jumpy yellow line traced across the screen. "Let’s take a look." He placed a hand on the firefighter’s arm. "Hold compressions."

The firefighter stopped. I held my breath. The EKG line flattened out, hiccuped once, and then grew into a regular patern of uniform complexes. Oh, thank you, Jesus!

I gave our patient two more full ventilations and then watched in amazement as she opened her eyes and began to cough and choke. We rolled her onto her side, careful to protect her head and neck as the clear pool water drained from her mouth and nose. "Non-rebreather," I said reaching out and snapping my fingers. Someone placed a hissing oxygen mask into my hand. I placed it over her face and waited, speaking quietly to her and praying silently as I coaxed her back to life. "Come on," I said. "You can do it. Come on back to us, come back." And slowly but surely she did. She pinked up. Her eyes opened. And then as if waking from a nightmare and realizing it was all just a terrible dream she closed those innocent blues again and began to cry. I closed mine too, but I began to pray. "Thank you, Lord. Oh, thank you, Lord."

*

Lord, I’m struggling. I feel like I’m drowning down here. I can see the surface but I just can’t seem to get there. Help me! Give me your hand, Lord. Please save me!

Have you been there? Where the cares of this world make you feel like you’re about to drown? Well next time you find yourself in the midst of a raging tempest with the wind shrieking and waves crashing all around, remember you’re not alone. Jesus is right there with you.
"Save us," his Disciples cried. "We’re going to drown!"

And look what Jesus did. He woke from his sleep. He stood and boldly rebuked the storm. And the wind and waves subsided. And peace fell over the scene.

* * *

He Said -- She Said January 2, 2009

Do Overs -- He Said, Eddie Jones

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’” Lamentations 3:22-24

“Well… I guess Christmas is over,” my son said as I guided our car into the driveway.

The front porch sparkled with lights embedded in green plastic garland draped across the railing. Through the glass window of the door Christmas bulbs blazed red, yellow, blue and green. An octagonal stop sign on the front steps said: DON’T FORGET TO STOP, SANTA. Our family was home for the Holydays and Christmas day was almost done.

I parked the car and turned to my son. “It’s not over, yet. As long as the tree is up, it’s still Christmas.”

I dread the dreariness of the New Year with its cold, gray days. Christmas is about laughter, fellowship and snacks that make me fat. New Year’s is filled with remorse, because it’s a time of reflection and self-evaluation and I seldom like what I see. Day one of a new year only serves to remind me that I’m still the same flawed father and husband I was the year before. My resolve to become a better person fades as the grind of life’s pressures shapes me into the grumpy old man I’m destined to become.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” read the entry in last year’s prayer journal. Beneath my confession was a list of grievances I had against myself. Petty things like, pride, lust, arrogance, discouragement and anger.

But today is a new year, a different day than the one before. “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why they call it ‘Present.’” I forget who said this. I think I heard it in a chic-flick. But it’s a clever way of restating what the writer of Lamentations said when he wrote; “God’s love is new every morning. His faithfulness is great. His portion sufficient.” My resolve to be a better father and husband may fail, but God’s compassions and encouragement never will.

So today I pray; “Lord, change me in ways I can’t. Help me to love my wife the way you love her, to be more aware of your presence in my life and to have the compassion of Christ. May my thoughts be pure and my purpose in you secure.”

No, son Christmas isn’t over. It is just beginning, as it begins every day, for those who truly believe in Christ.

Song Sung Blue -- She Said

Song Sung Blue -- She Said, Cindy Sproles

"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

During the 70’s Neil Diamond walked on stage before thousands of fans, acoustic guitar in hand, and began to sing, “Song sung blue, everybody knows one…..every garden grows one….me and you are subject to the blues…” The words were just a few phrases but they reminded us that we all suffer sadness from time to time.

I’ve walked onto the porch in the middle of the night, a chill sweeping over me, and wondered if the incredible loneliness I felt was normal. Wondered why God had stepped away from me, taking his warmth, fellowship and sense of acceptance from me.

Where are you? Why have you walked away when I need you the most? But my laments fall on deaf ears.

Jeremiah wept for Israel. His song was blue, as well. In his sadness, he poured out his loneliness and brokenness, complaining that God had turned His back on the children He loved. Jeremiah knew that though his cries were not being acknowledged, God still heard them and he found comfort in the promise that the Lord’s love was so great, so massive, so undeniably strong that His compassion would never fail. There would be a new hope each day.

I watched as the clock ticked past midnight, the hands sweeping away another year. The metronome sound of the clock’s gears reminded me that God is constant. He never leaves me, although sometimes He allows me to think. He lets me long for Him. He waits for me to sort through my sin and seek repentance. God may not acknowledge my cries, but He definitely hears them. His proof is in the promise of a new morning.

When you hear a song sung blue welling up within your soul, sing the praises in His Psalms and meditate on the promises in His Word.


Eddie Jones and Cindy Sproles are friends and co-founders of
ChristianDevotions.us. They co-write the popular He Said, She Said devotions and host BlogtalkRadio's Christian Devotions Speak UP! along with Marianne Jordan.

HE SAID, SHE SAID -- December 19, 2008

JOSEPH THE DREAMER --He Said

By: Eddie Jones

Joseph The Dreamer -- He Said, Eddie Jones

"An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. ‘Get up,’ he said, ‘take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.’” Matthew 2:13

Dreams are the lifeblood of ideas. Before the world began, before there was man and woman and matching his and hers bath towels with monogrammed initials God dreamed of world filled with creatures made in His image.

For some, for the lucky few who see the world in Technicolor rather than shades of gray, God still dispenses dreams. Not the cheap, plastic disposable dreams thrust upon us by the marketing types on Madison Avenue, but the rich and raw and utterly terrifying dreams of the unbridled imagination.

What if the world is not flat? What if man could fly to the moon? What if the dead do not stay dead?

As I read the Christmas story anew I’m struck by the number of dreams God gave to the characters in His story. The Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, assuring him that all would be well. And it was. The Magi, having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, went home by another way and lived to boast of the new king they’d found. An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him to take his boy to Egypt and later an angel appeared telling him it was okay to return home. Before he reached Judah, however, he was warned in another dream to settle in Nazareth.

God is in the dream business. In fact, it seems that sometimes he does his greatest works through dreams. His dreams are found in Old Testament stories where men of faith built boats in the desert, fathered children in barren wombs and climbed ladders to heaven. We can find God’s dreams within the pages of the New Testament in the letters of saints like Paul, Peter, Stephen, James and John, who gave their lives because of the visions they received from God.

What if this Christmas God gave you a dream instead of a toy fire truck, pair of socks or flat screen TV? What if he gave you a really big, blow you into the fifth dimension dream? Would you shun the dream and wish for cash instead? Would you scoff at the vision?

If Jesus came back on his birthday and asked you to give an account of the dreams you’ve been given would his audit bring visions of sugar plums dancing in your head or the terrifying nightmares of misspent days squandered on the tawdry and cheap daydreams we pass off as the good life?

This Christmas ask God to place His dreams in your heart. He’s in the business of big ideas. And nothing we imagine can come anywhere close to what He has in store for us.


SWEET DREAMS -- SHE SAID

By Cindy Sproles

Sweet Dreams! by Cindy Sproles

When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him." Matthew 2: 13

The phone rang several times. Startled, I sat up straight in the bed. The room was pitch black, and all I could imagine was something must be wrong. I glanced at the clock, 1:10 a.m. March 6, 1997. Groggy and incoherent from sleep I grabbed at the portable. “Hello.” My heart raced as I waited for what had to be bad news. “Hello!”

“I’m fine. It’s time you rested,” a crackled voice squeezed through the static on the line.

“Dad?”

A click on line and then nothing. I stood staring at the phone thinking, this is impossible. Dad died a year ago. I’m having a really weird dream. I climbed back in bed and eyed the clock again. March 6, 1997, 1:10 a.m.—one year to the day and time when dad left this earth.

When I woke the next morning, I was clutching the phone in my hand. Dreams are not always joyful. Sometimes, as in my case, they offer us an opportunity to grasp hold of acceptance and move forward. Other times they move us to understanding a situation we may face. Our dreams are our mind’s way of working us through the realizations of life.

Joseph had a few of those dreams—four in fact. The first, a calming dream telling him Mary carried the Son of God. What a way to find out you’re about to be a step-father. But imagine being woken from a deep sleep and told to get up right that minute and flee for your life, someone was trying to kill your child.

I often think we give Joseph too little credit. The focus lends itself to a virgin birth and the gift of eternal life she bore. But Joseph, a noble man, with noble intentions, who’s sleep was interrupted more times than not with bad dreams, saved the life of Christ three times. When he took on the responsibility of fathering the son of God — his dreams were not restful. They were filled with worry, concern and warnings, and Joseph obeyed, protecting the ready-made family he had not asked for.

I imagine Joseph cradled the baby, kissed his forehead and tucked him safely in his bed. Perhaps he whispered, “I love you.” And before he lay down to sleep himself, he might have said, “Sweet dreams,” knowing his own would never be sweet again.

This Christmas as you tuck your little ones in bed and bid them sweet dreams, remember the sacrifices that were made so that you might have hope.

From the Father listen for these words, “Sweet dreams.”

Eddie Jones and Cindy Sproles
are friends and co-founders of
ChristianDevotions.us. They
co-write the popular He Said, She Said
devotions and host BlogtalkRadio's
Christian Devotions Speak UP! along
with Marianne Jordan.