The Same but Different -- Sue Payne

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8

The full moon appeared in the crystal, clear night sky above the tips of tall evergreen trees lining the highway. The reflected light disguised the stars as its brilliance cast shadows within the car. “Mommy, where did the moon go?” Our direction had changed, causing the moon to “hide” below the tree line. “I think the moon is playing hide and seek!” I replied, “But it’s still there.” The moon “magically” hid and reappeared again and again, peeking out in new locations as we traveled. The entertainment continued until the moon rose too high in the sky to be seen through the car windows.

This game sparked interest in the different phases of the moon. Suddenly aware of this heavenly body, the boys began to notice the obvious changes in its size and shape. The questions came again. “ What happened to the moon?” “Did a piece break off?” “Why isn’t it the same as yesterday?” With the help of a library book, I was able to show them that part of the moon was just hiding, but it was the same moon and it was still there.

In my travels with the Lord He has appeared different at times along the road. As my life took turns for the worse, He was my strength and comfort. Climbing the mountains of success, He became my praise. On the back roads of uncertainty, He was my confidence. When I was running scared and feeling lonely, Jesus was my only hope. My journey has taken many turns, but God has remained my constant, unchanging companion and friend.

Truly, there have been times in my walk with Christ when I wondered where God was. I have ventured alone in the direction of my own desires, sorrows, and fears suddenly finding myself lost for lack of light. When I turned around I found that I was casting the shadow that hid His presence.

With the help of the book, the Bible, the Lord showed me I was the one who was hiding, and that He was there, still the same, seeking me.

Have you wondered lately where God is? He’s still there, still the same but different so that for every turn your life makes His light may shine for you and in turn you might be a reflection of His never changing love: yesterday, today, and forever.

Sue Payne is a freelance writer whose articles have appeared in home schooling newsletters and church news bulletins. She is experienced in curriculum planning and design and uses her writing skills to encourage and teach others. Sue lives in Delaware, is married, and has two boys whom she home schooled for a total of fourteen years

The Smell of Rain - Ariel Allison

- Listen to The Smell of Rain - by Ariel Allison


“Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.”
Deuteronomy 32:2

It came last night while I was making dinner. The clouds settled low over this desert town as they bubbled with moisture. I threw open my kitchen windows and breathed in that unforgettable scent. The smell of rain. It is a life-giving fragrance, clean and laden with the promise of refreshing. It comes to us in the moments before and after an autumn shower, a lingering reminder that God can wash away anything unclean, even the dusty residue of a long summer.

Twenty four hours later, my windows are still open, the sky is still gray, and that precious rain still soaks into a lawn that not two days ago was charred from relentless heat. Northern Texas does not see rain often, and when those heavy drops descend upon our dry soil, it is received gladly. I am not yet weary of this gift of rain. Just as I am not weary of the gift God gives us in His Word. Deuteronomy 32:2 says:

“Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.”

Sometimes my heart is like this desert where I live. Parched. In need of refreshing. This new life in me yearns for moisture to soften the hard soil around my tender roots and the new growth that pushes upward. I need the rain. I need God’s word to nourish me like showers on new grass and abundant rain on tender plants. I’ve seen what happens when a tender shoot, fresh from the soil, shrivels for lack of water.

May we absorb the word of Word of God this day like a thirsty plant that waits for rain. May our hearts swell with refreshing as we immerse ourselves in the truth we find on the pages of scripture.



Ariel Allison is a published author who lives in a small Texas town with her husband and three young sons. She is the co-author of Daddy Do You Love Me: a Daughter’s Journey of Faith and Restoration (New Leaf Press, 2006). Justin Case, the first of three children’s books will released by Harvest House Publishers in June 2009. She ponders on life as a mother of all boys at www.themoabclub.blogspot.com and on her thoughts as a redeemed dreamer at www.arielallison.blogspot.com. She and her husband are expecting their fourth son in December

Color Your World – By Sue Payne

- Listen to Color Your World - By Sue Payne

All the days of the oppressed are wretched, but the cheerful heart is a continual feast.
Proverbs 15:15

My Mom was an amazing cook. Coming from a long line of creative and frugal gourmets she came by her talent honestly. But, not only was she good at preparing delicious feasts, she thoroughly enjoyed putting a meal together that was pleasing to the palette, as well as colorful to the eye. I remember her telling me that there should be at least four different colors represented on a plate of food. This not only looked appetizing, but would be nutritionally balanced.

I usually fail miserably at following her food guidelines, but I have internalized a truth in regards to coloring my life in order to stay healthy, happy, and balanced. I’ve learned through experience that attitudes come in many colors and can often make a mess on our “plates”.

For over 10 years I had a large poster-like banner displayed in our kitchen that read, “Attitude is the mind’s paintbrush. It can color any situation!” I purchased it to influence my children, whose colorful personalities and sometimes challenging attitudes added to the mess I frequently seemed to be cleaning up. The four of us usually made a very colorful display but at times, spilled words of anger and responses served with sarcasm left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.

It wasn’t long before I began to realize that the oppression we sometimes felt in our home came from the attitudes we chose in response to the circumstances of our lives. I simply had too much on my “plate”. My two boys were simply testing boundaries and experiencing the flavorful, yet confusing and tempting world around them. I think occasionally my husband wanted to bag us up and send us packing! But it really had nothing to do with our relationships with each other. Our circumstances had us choosing the wrong attitudes.

How many of us find that our plates are so full that the frustration from yesterday’s board meeting has run into the pile of bills that are overdue? Has communication in your marriage gotten cold and become stale and tasteless? Maybe your plate is piled with good things but they’ve combined to form a heavy burden of heartburn. Stress and fear cause terrible indigestion.

So, serve up a feast of cheerfulness tonight! Add in a cup of grace, sprinkled with kind words and a listening ear. And for dessert? Try some love and understanding. The table will be set, balanced, and ready for healing, forgiveness, rest, and joy!

Sue Payne is a freelance writer whose articles have appeared in home schooling newsletters and church news bulletins. She is experienced in curriculum planning and design and uses her writing skills to encourage and teach others. Sue lives in Delaware, is married, and has two boys whom she home schooled for a total of fourteen years.

Honor Thy Father -- Ariel Allison

- Listen to Honor Thy Father - By Ariel Allison

“Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise), so that it may be well with you.
Ephesians 6: 2-3



Honor, according to Webster’s dictionary is, “a good name or public esteem. A showing of unusual merited respect.” Being an adult does not relieve us of Scripture’s command to honor our mother and father. Yet is a verse we often associate with young children or rebellious teenagers. The truth is that I have struggled with this command more than any other. For many years I didn’t feel as though my father was worthy of honor. It helped me tremendously when I read these words by Dennis Rainey:

“Honoring your parents does not mean endorsing irresponsibility or sin. It is not a denial of what they have done wrong as parents. Honoring your parents means choosing to place great value on your relationship with them…It is an attitude accompanied by actions that say to your parents, ‘You are worthy. You have value. You are the person God sovereignly placed in my life.’”

Shortly before my father passed away, I felt God calling me to stand up at his funeral and honor him publicly. I stood before 200 people that day and shared the things that my father had done right. I told of how he loved the word of God and how he imparted that love to me. I told of his compassion for those in society that no one else cared for. I told of his great love for sharing the gospel and I told of his ability to keep a promise. He said, “until death do us part” to my mother and he meant it.

That was the last page in the last chapter of my relationship with my dad. And I didn’t stand in front of those people and lie. I padded nothing. I celebrated the good things about him honestly and freely. I said goodbye to my dad on a Thanksgiving evening and he slipped into eternity hours later. That day has become about far more than turkey for me. It has become a day that I quiet my heart and thank God for the man who gave me life. Each year I try to honor him on that day, if not out loud, then at least in my heart.

Is there a way that you can honor your parents today, as an adult, intentionally? Perhaps a phone call. Maybe by offering forgiveness for a past sin. Maybe by thanking them for the legacy they have left you and your children. Or it may be as simple as not saying something. Regardless, I challenge you to place your mother or father in that place of honor and experience God’s blessings as a result.



Ariel Allison is a published author who lives in a small Texas town with her husband and three young sons. She is the co-author of Daddy Do You Love Me: a Daughter’s Journey of Faith and Restoration (New Leaf Press, 2006). Justin Case, the first of three children’s books will released by Harvest House Publishers in June 2009. She ponders on life as a mother of all boys at www.themoabclub.blogspot.com and on her thoughts as a redeemed dreamer at www.arielallison.blogspot.com. She and her husband are expecting their fourth son in December.

Born Again -- Cindy Sproles

- Listen to Born Again- By Cindy Sproles

"In reply Jesus declared, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” John 3:3

You can ask my mother. She’ll tell you it’s true. Every year on my birthday, I call my mother and sing Happy Birthday to her. In the beginning she thought she’d raised an odd child. But she grew to enjoy the birthday calls I gave her on MY birthday.

“It’s not my birthday,” she’d say.

“Sure it is.”

“How do you figure?”

“You gave birth to me, and outside of being completely blessed (here’s where she chuckles), it was you who gave birth. It’s your 'birth' day.” She laughs and insults me by asking if I feel it’s necessary to remind her.

When I read about Nicodemus and what must have gone through his mind when Jesus said, “you must be born again,” I have to laugh. Poor guy must have gone into sensory overload. He simply couldn’t imagine an adult being thrust back into the womb. The thought of two birthdays made him a little nutty. You have to give Nicodemus a little credit. The concept was hard when you lived in such a literal world. Jesus knew Nicodemus wouldn’t fully understand, but He also knew he’d think on the topic, study in his mind and eventually make a difference in the Sanhedrin. And Nicodemus did make a difference. Though we never know if he ever really grasped the idea of rebirth, He ended up coming to the defense of Jesus.

Me…..well, I was born on August 21. Ten years later, April, 10 1968, I was born again. I stepped into the aisle, walked to the front of the church and celebrated my real birthday.Jesus asked me to be born again if I wanted to see the Kingdom of God, and I obeyed. He offered me eternal life. But I had to be reborn. I experienced that second birth, when my slate was wiped clean—when I died to sin and my heart received the jolt that brought it to life a second time. Even when times have been difficult I could only imagine the frustration being worse without the Father in my life.

My earthly birthday comes and goes. For the most part, I never give it a second thought, but that second birthday carries the weight. I never let that date slip past without falling to my knees and singing “happy birthday to me.”

Have you been reborn? I mean, really reborn? Have you allowed Christ to change your life? If you haven’t, seriously consider it. Chew on the concept, consider the invitation. Accept. This is one birthday you’ll not want to miss.

So, later in the morning, I’ll dial the phone and when my mom answers, I’ll break into song and sing happy “birth” day to her. She’ll laugh, shake her head and wonder how she managed such a weird child, one who’s obviously still not grown up.

You must be born again. I was, and I’m glad.

More Precious than Gold -- Pat Patterson

"Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold." - Proverbs 3:13-14

Anger! It’s part of who I am. My response to the harshness of life. But have mercy on me please, I didn’t choose to be this way…..

My youngest son was fourteen years old at the time, healthy and safe, getting himself ready for school when my final call of the night was dispatched. “EMS report for medic-seven,” the dispatcher said. “Possible suicide…”

A gallery of colorful images flooded my mind—slashed wrists, gunshot wounds, overdoses. I’d seen them all. Vibrant memories of hopelessness and pain. Horrific expressions of self-inflicted death.
I felt myself cringe.

“You can handle it,” I told myself. “It’s just another call.”

I forced the images aside and approached the scene. We found her lying at the base of a carpeted staircase, a fourteen year old girl without a breath of life. Her eyes bulged. Her face looked puffy and blue. A collar of swollen red skin encircled her neck.

“Oh, my God,” my partner cried.

“She hung herself,” one of the police officers explained. “Her little sister found her. Cut her down and ran back to bed. Can you believe it? Poor kid didn’t know what else to do.”

The harshness of life. It slapped me in the face. What was I to do but cry?

But I couldn’t cry. My defense mechanism worked too well. I glanced around the room. The other faces displayed emotion. Pain. I felt nothing. No sorrow. No pity.

Nothing.

“It’s just another call,” I whispered, my heart grown cold. “Just another call.”

*
Weeks passed. Months. My life went on as usual. But then one day, like a freight train charging out of the night, another crisis hit. This one in my home.

My defense mechanisms went to work. I prepared myself for the worst.

“You can handle it,” I told myself. “It’s just another call.”

But this time something went wrong. Like a pressure cooker blowing off steam, I exploded. I broke down in a fit of uncontrolled grief while my wife, my sons, my in-laws watched, bewildered by the sudden burst of emotion from a man so usually hard.

Embarrassment could not begin to explain the humiliation I felt that day. But I couldn’t help myself, it just happened. Fifteen years of pent up frustration and anger, grief and hopelessness, sorrow and death—they all finally surfaced, and with them a tidal wave of emotion that truly rocked my world.
My family survived that crisis. God poured out His mercy on us…especially on me. I still find myself crying at times when the harsh realities of life slap me in the face, but I handle pain better now. I now know how to let it go.

God granted me wisdom through those two experiences, and new understanding more precious than gold. I learned that no man can hold in the pain forever. It will surface. It always finds a way.

* * *

Do you know a police officer? A firefighter or a paramedic? Someone who’s out there every day absorbing the pain of others and trying their best to keep it all inside? Pray for that person. Be
there for them. Love them. But most of all try to understand them. They were called to serve others— a tough, painful job.

What is that Smell? -- Virginia Smith

- Listen to What is that Smell- By Virginia Smith

“For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.”
2 Corinthians 2:15-16

I woke the other day to find a distinctive odor lingering in the air – it was brewing day for the local bourbon distillery. I drew in deep breaths, savoring the smell of my past. I was raised in central Kentucky within a few miles of several distilleries, so the yeasty fragrance of brewing bourbon brings back vivid memories of childhood. To me, a functioning distillery smells like bacon and eggs frying in the kitchen.

My husband gagged all morning.

At our house in Utah we can smell the Great Salt Lake when the wind blows from the northwest. It isn’t at all like the ocean’s salty smell. It’s more like decaying fish, and makes me want to barricade the windows and doors and light scented candles in every room. Locals refer to the distinctive odor as lake stench. And yet, the other day my neighbor, a native Utahn, stood in my front yard, drew in a deep breath, and announced with a smile lingering on her lips, “Ah, it smells like summer has arrived.”

My aunt is a Kentucky thoroughbred breeder. She insists that horse manure smells good. Honest.

The other day I read a Bible verse that made me think of lake stench and horse manure and bourbon distilleries. 2 Corinthians 2:15-16 says, “For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.”

To me, this is one of the vast mysteries of all time. I do so few things that are worthy of God’s notice. On the contrary, I’m often aware that my efforts would come up pitifully short if laid on an eternal yardstick. I’m too often focused on myself and my own goals instead of looking for ways to help others. I make decisions without consulting Him. I fight with my husband. I mismanage my money. In the eternal crowd of His faithful—to put it bluntly—I stink. And yet, He lives in me. When God draws near to me and inhales, He smells life. His life. And somehow, regardless of my shortcomings, others can catch a whiff of that fragrance in me, too.

God’s grace is an awesome, unfathomable mystery. Some days I don’t even try to understand it. I just inhale deeply and enjoy the smell.

Virginia Smith left her twenty-year career as a corporate director to become a full time writer and speaker with the release of her first novel Just As I Am. In March of 2008 she was honored with the Writer of the Year award at Mount Hermon Christian Writer’s Conference. She writes mystery/suspense novels such as Bluegrass Peril and A Taste of Murder, and humorous heart-touching stories like Stuck in the Middle, book 1 of the Sister-to-Sister Series, and Sincerely, Mayla. http://www.virginiasmith.org/

Guest Devotionalist -- Pat Patterson

"Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
--John 11:25

A Second Chance

I caught myself smiling. The scene looked perfectly serene. A group of old men sat together in a wide circle on the front porch rocking quietly. Their aged faces reflected serenity. Not a care in the world. I stepped onto the porch and cleared my throat. No one spoke or greeted me. They hardly seemed to notice me.

“Excuse me,” I said feeling somewhat confused, quite certain that my EMS uniform would have been enough to announce the purpose of my visit. “Did you gentlemen call 9-1-1?”

“Sure, sure,” one of the men responded. “We did.”

“Well—” I glanced at him and chuckled. “What can we do for you?”

“I think Harold’s dead,” he said pointing across the porch. “He stopped breathing five minutes ago.”

“What?”

I set down my equipment and walked over for a closer look. Sure enough, a gray-haired man sat in one of the chairs between two fellow rockers his head slumped against one shoulder as if he were asleep. I saw no sign of life, no movement at all. I touched his neck and felt for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Uh, Andy?” I glanced at my partner, Andy Strader. “I believe he’s right.”

Andy set down the defibrillator unit and pushed the power button. I grabbed the old man by the arms, slid him to the floor and ripped open the front of his shirt. Buttons flew. Fabric tore. Andy handed me the defibrillator paddles. I placed them on his chest and glanced at the monitor. A squiggly green line traced across the screen.

“Okay,” I murmured. “We’ve got V-Fib. We can handle that.”

Andy switched the unit to DEFIB and pushed the charge button. The unit began to whine. The low-toned whistle built quickly into a high-pitched shrill.

“Okay,” Andy said the capacitor was fully charged. “Light him up.”

“Here goes. Clear!”

Andy backed away. I straightened my arms, pushed the paddles firmly against Harold’s bony chest, and delivered the shock. Two hundred watt-seconds of electricity discharged into the old man’s body. His back arched. His muscles jerked. And then suddenly, to my amazement, he opened his eyes. He looked about briefly as if trying to gain his bearings, and then turned and gazed at me.

“Who are you?”

“Sir,” I said trying to hide my astonishment. “I’m a paramedic.”

“What are you doing?”

“You were dead, Harold,” one of the old men shouted. “These boys saved your life.”
“They did? Well, I’ll be.” Harold sat up and rubbed his chin. “Thank you fellas. Looks like you’ve given me a second chance.”

***

It’s a true story. Harold died that cool autumn morning—his heart stopped beating and his breathing ceased—but only for a little while. Apparently God wasn’t finished with him. He sent us. And by the delivery of a single shock of electricity He gave Harold a second shot at life. What Harold did with the rest would be up to him.

And you?

Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life.” He gave you a second chance too. It’s called eternal life. And just like Harold, what you do with that is up to you. But I wouldn’t wait too long in making that decision.

Harold got another chance. Will you?






Pat Patterson is a novelist, a paramedic, and an instructor of Emergency Medical Science. His stories are true, based on real experiences from the streets of Durham, North Carolina where he has served as a paramedic since 1992.

Guest Devotionalist - Cindy Rooy

Spiritual Amnesia


“They will tell of the power of your awesome works, and I will proclaim your great deeds.” (Psalm 145:6)

The older and more forgetful I become, the more optimistic I get about the idea of journaling. Recently, I was challenged to write down all the times the Lord has intervened in my life - including answers to prayers or help that was undeniably from Him. I spent days mulling over my past and God’s involvement in my life.

What events in my life were more than coincidences? What accidents did I narrowly escape? When did God answer my prayer? How did He turn that bad event into something good? Stunned by my spiritual amnesia, I realized I was no better than the Israelites who failed to remember that the Lord parted the Red Sea for them. Yet, the number of entries eventually recorded created an awareness of God’s activity throughout my life.

Making a list of personal experiences where God’s power is noticed reaps spiritual benefits. If your memory fails you, ask God for help in recalling His interventions. Then keep the list handy so events can be added when they are remembered and as they occur.

But God wants us to do more than remember. He wants us to share our stories. When we are alert for occasions to tell others about Him, it is amazing how often the opportunity presents itself. Talking about the Lord’s provision of help, healing, and peace remind us how compassionate and mighty He is. It encourages others and glorifies God when we make known what He has done for us.

Remembering His activity in our lives makes us more mindful of and thankful for our blessings. As the song lyrics suggest, “Count your many blessings, name them one by one, count your many blessings, see what God has done.”

So what has God done for you lately?


Cindy Rooy is a columnist in two TN newspapers and has been published in a devotional book titled Daily Devotions for Writers. She recently wrote a Bible study, Trusting God Through Trouble and Tears, which is being considered for publication. A wife and mother of three adult children, Cindy enjoys a writing and speaking ministry, and can be reached at cr4Him@gmail.com.

Guest Devotionalist - Susan Boyer

Get on With It

by: Susan Boyer

- Listen to Get on With It- By Susan Boyer

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13

Recently, Cindy sent out an email with an update on the Christian Devotions ministry to the authors who contribute. I am honored to be on that list. She attached a formalized guidelines document for writing devotions.

Yikes!

The first thing that went through my mind was, “Wow, they have twenty-two authors writing for the website now—that’s awesome.”

The second thing that went through my mind was: “They surely don’t need me.” Having read the devotions, and seen the bountiful blessing of talent therein, I was both joyous and intimidated.

The third thing I thought was: “I can’t color inside the box.” I really, really can’t, both literally and figuratively—never have been able to. Whatever the boundaries are, I can’t stay inside them. My special challenge as a writer is staying within word counts. My writing tends to be a little on the chatty side.

Immediately, I began composing an email in my head, explaining to Cindy all the reasons why I wasn’t right for the site. “I’m just so overwhelmed right now… you have so many infinitely more qualified authors… I can’t address an envelope in four hundred words or less…”

A voice in my head that sounded like Cindy said, “Pray,” so I did. It was a half-hearted, already defeated attempt, but I gave God a glancing-look and a question.

As always, He had my number. Immediately, Philippians 4:13 popped into my head: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This is as true today as it was when Paul wrote the letter to the church of Philippi.

No matter what your calling is in this world, there are forces both within and without that will tell you that you can’t. The voices make compelling arguments, and use your own best and worst qualities against you.

Insecure like me? The voices insist you don’t have the talent.

Committed to other worthwhile projects? The voices scream that you don’t have the time.
Busy caring for your family? The voices assure you that family comes first.

So what if you never finish that book, sing that song, or see your painting hanging in a gallery?

The voices will comfort you as you walk away from your dreams, telling you it just wasn’t meant to be.

If you believe them, the enemy wins.

Trust me, if God wants you to do it, you can.





Susan M. Boyer lives in Greenville, SC with her husband, Jim. She spends her days writing and daydreaming too much. Her work has appeared in Relief Journal, Spinetingler Magazine, The Petigru Review, and Catfish Stew. She is the recipient of Relief Journal’s, editor’s choice award in fiction. Susan serves on the board of directors for the South Carolina Writers Workshop, and is in her second year as chairperson for the organization’s annual conference. In her spare time, Susan travels with her husband, occasionally makes it to her Jazzercise class, and sometimes remembers to update her blog, People I’d Like to Be, where she mostly complains about the exercise and her sluggish metabolism.

Guest Devotionalist -- Polly Boyette

ARE YOU EXPOSED?

By Polly Boyette




(Photo courtsey of Ashley McCue Photography)

Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap." Luke 21:34


Have you ever done something so crazy that you're embarrassed to admit you did it? Recently I decided my Chrysler, PT Cruiser had collected enough dirt and trash to warrant a good car wash. I drove to this station near my house where they have this touch-less car wash.

I punched in my code and the automated voice told me to drive forward. When the sign told me to stop I put the car in park but as the sprayer started moving around my car I thought it sounded a bit different than in the past. It seemed to be louder somehow, like one of the windows was opened. I pushed all of the window buttons to make sure each one was tightly closed.

As the sprayer rounded the back of the car it still sounded like one of the windows was opened. Then I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my trunk was wide open. As the sprayer moved across the front of my car I jumped out, hoping to close the trunk, but quickly realized that was a big mistake. The sprayer soaked me in water and suds.

I screamed, jumped back into my car and backed out.

It just goes to show that even when we think we have everything covered and that there are no open and vulnerable areas the enemy sneaks in and we get blasted from behind. As a Christian, we must never let our guard down. When things are going good we may leave our lives open and that's the time the enemy will trap us with a false sense of security leaving us exposed and vulnerable.

Luke 21:34 teaches us, "But be on your guard. Don't let the sharp edge of your expectation get dulled by parties and drinking and shopping. Otherwise, that Day is going to take you by complete surprise, spring on you suddenly like a trap for it's going to come on everyone, everywhere, at once. So, whatever you do, don't go to sleep at the switch. Pray constantly that you will have the strength and wits to make it through everything that's coming and end up on your feet before the Son of Man."

Think you got your backside covered? Look again; your trunk might be wide open.

Polly Boyette is the author of "Life is a Buffet So Save Room for Dessert,". She was born and raised in Virginia where she still lives today. Her friends will tell you she has a strong sense of humor and a gift for telling stories. Polly has worked in Russia with orphans providing humanitarian aid and giving them hope through the gospel of Christ.

Guest Devotionalist -- Susan Boyer

Acts of God and Other Puzzlements

Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. John 3:6

I travel a good bit with my husband, Jim, on business. Last spring, business took us to Jasper, Alabama. Jasper is one of the many towns across our country that I would never get to see were it not for the fact that my husband’s job carries him to places generally not found in Fodor's guidebooks. Jasper’s a nice, regular town, much like the one I grew up in, only bigger.

We arrived on Sunday evening, April 8th. April 8th is the anniversary of when an F-5 tornado blew through those parts. Not Jasper, but real close by. Now, I haven’t told y’all this yet, but I have a life-long, blood-freezing terror of tornadoes.

You might be asking yourself if I was raised, perhaps, in Kansas, where such horrific storms are common. No, in fact, I was raised in Faith, NC, and as so far as I am informed, there has never been a tornado there, nor anywhere in the vicinity. The Wizard of Oz was my favorite movie as a child. Perhaps that explains it. Or maybe it was the way my family huddled in the hall every time it thundered, even in the dead of night. Mamma would get me out of bed to duck for cover with the rest of the family until the last rumble faded.

Anyway, Jim and I were right there where this media-declared Act of God transpired—
Why do they call such things "Acts of God?"

Why are bad things—tornadoes, tsunami's, earthquakes, et cetera—Acts of God, but none of the good things? The sun came up this morning, and no one else—not even any of the presidential candidates—claimed credit, but no one refers to Daylight as an Act of God.

And what about summer? Home-grown tomatoes, blackberries, and watermelon. And great picnic weather...well, except for places in the Rockies, where it's still snowing. Snow. Now, that's an Act of God…according to newscasters and insurance agents everywhere. But wisteria in bloom? He doesn't get the credit. I find this a puzzlement.

As someone who knows God personally, I'd like to see Him get more appreciation in the media for everything miraculous that happens throughout His divine creation each and every day. We can't have it both ways: If a tsunami is an Act of God, then by golly, so is the rhythmic surf caressing beaches all over the world right this minute.

It’s hard to think that our loving Father would create—or allow—killer storms that punish guilty and innocent alike. I know atheists that cite this as reason number one they don’t believe in an all-powerful, loving God.

I’m no theologian, but here’s where I find my Peace: everything we experience in creation is through our limited, human lens. Loss of a human—fleshly—life is tragic, and I don’t mean to minimize grief. But God, I think, is more concerned with our spirits than our flesh. Our relationship with Him is wholly spiritual, and our spiritual lives vast compared to the brief sojourn we spend on planet earth. He has his eye on eternity, and we live in the moment.
Take one of those moments to appreciate everyday miracles. Each of us is an Act of God.


Susan M. Boyer lives in Greenville, SC with her husband, Jim. She spends her days writing and daydreaming too much. Her work has appeared in Relief Journal, Spinetingler Magazine, The Petigru Review, and Catfish Stew. She is the recipient of Relief Journal’s, editor’s choice award in fiction. Susan serves on the board of directors for the South Carolina Writers Workshop, and is in her second year as chairperson for the organization’s annual conference. In her spare time, Susan travels with her husband, occasionally makes it to her Jazzercise class, and sometimes remembers to update her blog, People I’d Like to Be, where she mostly complains about the exercise and her sluggish metabolism.

Guest Devotionalist -- Catherine Painter

Your Ticket to Real Success


Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.....My son, do not despise the LORD's discipline and do not resent his rebuke, because the LORD disciplines those he loves, as a father the son he delights in." Proverbs 3:5-6, 11-12

George Truett defined success as, “the ability to find the will of God for our lives and doing it.” All of us want success and are disappointed when failure rears its head instead.

I was introduced to failure during grade school. My name was often called last when team captains chose sides for a softball game. Evidently, an athletic career was not God’s will for my life, as I was athletically handicapped. The good news was, however, that I was on the team.

Day after day the balls dodged my glove. Then one day the miracle happened. The batter hit a ball that landed smack into my glove! The game halted, the class roared, and I stood awestruck, knowing I hadn’t caught the ball; I only received the credit.

One day you and I will join heaven’s team spiritually handicapped. We’ll arrive only because, by His grace, Jesus hit the balls and gave us the runs. He ran the race and gave us the trophy; He took the test and gave us the A. On that wonderful day, He won’t say, “Well done, good and successful servant,” but “Well done, good and faithful servant”. He won’t scold us for the games we lost, but reward us for playing by God’s rules, simple enough even a child can understand.

Here they are:
• Admit you’re a sinner (Rom. 3:23).
• Believe in Jesus (John 3:16).
• Commit your life to Christ (Rom. 12:1).

There’s the rub. Have we committed ourselves completely to following God’s rules? Proverbs is crammed with how-to’s for applying wisdom, the ticket to real success in life.

One day we’ll approach heaven, smiling at the sign on the gate: “You did not choose Me, but I chose you.” Jesus won’t ask how many balls we caught or missed. He’ll want to know whether we remained in the game playing by His rules, or grew weary and dropped out, deciding the reward just wasn’t worth the effort.

Are you in heaven’s line-up today? If not, fall in anywhere along the way; but don’t delay. One day the Eternal Time Keeper will stop the clock and time will be no more. Where will you be when the final buzzer sounds?




Catherine Painter is author of the twelve-week Bible study,So, You’re a Christian! Now What? published by Hensley Publishing, Tulsa, OK. Catherine is a columnist for Biblical Recorder, a state religious journal. She writes Sunday School curricula for LifeWay Resources, Nashville. She is available for speaking engagements by contacting her at: 617 Great Pine Way, Raleigh, NC 27614. Email: cspwrites@nc.rr.com Or telephone: (919) 846-1745

Visit her on the web at www.catherinepainterministries.com

Guest Devotionalist -- Sue Falcone

- Listen to Got Duck Tape- By Sue Falcone

GOT DUCK TAPE?

"All we like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him (Jesus) the iniquity (sins) of us all."--Isaiah 53:6

We all have heard and used the wonderful product, Duck Tape. It was created and manufactured in 1942 by Johnson and Johnson. It was for use in World War II, to keep moisture out the ammunition cases. It was named "Duck Tape" because it was waterproof. The military personnel, just as we have done today, found that "Duck Tape" had many more uses.

"Duck Tape" was created to be a temporary fix for our problems; but as a young child I choose to invent my own personal roll to be the permanent fix for my life.

I spent many years filled with bad choices, many broken relationships, always having a weight problem, financial worries, and being performance driven resulting in over-working and wanting to be perfect. I had trusted and received Jesus at an early age, but had not given Him my roll of "Duck Tape." I was like a lost sheep and had gone my own way.

Then facing early retirement, being an empty nester and heavily overweight and deep in debt, all my life fell apart. For the first time I realized I had spent my life applying pieces from my roll of "Duck Tape" to fix my life instead of putting my faith in Jesus Christ.

I cried out to God and He heard me. He had never left me and showed me how to change from the inside-out. He has given me a new life work which includes speaking, writing and singing for Him. I am so thankful and grateful that I no longer live in a prison of my past, but face each new day with God's love and forgiveness.

Hope for You

Today are you looking for true joy, peace and contentment in your life? Have you searched and it never seemed to last? Do you need a Savior and a friend? Today call on Jesus and you can have a new beginning that is a permanent answer, not just a temporary fix like "Duck Tape."

Sue Falcone had spent a lifetime avoiding her fears. She journeyed through an abusive childhood, the stress of divorce and single parenting, as well as the challenge of raising step children. As a gifted speaker and teacher God has called Sue to use her unique presentation of encouragement and humor to help others overcome their fears. Skilled as a former "corporate America" manager, Sue is a graduate of Dale Carnegie and is a speaker for Stonecroft Ministries- Christian Women's Clubs. She is a successful small business owner and is certified in the areas of time management, financial counseling, and sales and marketing. Sue is married to Carmen, and together they have a blended family of 4 awesome children and 6 grandchildren. She loves the beach, walking, music, reading and inspiring others to find faith in Jesus Christ and have fun living fear-free.

THE LIGHTHOUSE OF HOPE - by Sue Falcone is available through her website and will be in bookstore soon

Guest Devotionalist - Derek Maul

Christian Unity in 350 Words
by- DEREK MAUL

"My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me." (John 17:20-21)

One of my regular writing jobs is a weekly profile column featuring interesting people who make the community tick. Teachers, doctors, politicians, small business owners, preachers, artists, personalities; I'll talk to just about anyone.

In one market I concentrate exclusively on spiritual leaders; 130 to date in Plant City (Florida) alone. According to my records, and in writing for five local papers, I've conducted in-depth interviews with over 250 preachers over the past six years.

The diversity has been remarkable. Eighteen recognizable denominations; tall steeples; modern auditoriums; humble meeting houses. Traditional congregations, counter-cultural gatherings, and then one church for motorcyclists that features hard rock music and a preacher wearing leather.

I've interviewed clergy with advanced degrees who disdain titles and high-school drop-outs who insist I call them "bishop." I've met with pastors who drive BMWs and parsons who ride tractors. From the polished mega-church leader who preaches to 3,000 to the farmer who shepherds a congregation of fourteen.

Ages range from twenty-one to ninety-two, politics from left to right, ethnicity is all over the map. I have had conversations that lasted as little as twenty minutes, comfortable discussions that covered an hour, and – more than once – listened to three hour monologs featuring anecdotes I could never hope to run in the newspaper.

Each individual minister shared their own story, unique in every detail. But, and this is true every time – from the Eastern Orthodox priest who wore gold vestments and a huge black hat, to the Baptist preacher in a suit, to the Methodist who interviewed in jeans and heels, her hair stuffed under a baseball cap – the bottom line has been consistent, compelling, and charged with a degree of authenticity that speaks volumes.

Hundreds of preachers, representing variations in worship style and doctrine and religious expression that will make your head spin; but they all witness to this one simple truth: We were all created for relationship with God, and a life committed to following Jesus is the heart of God's plan for everyone.

There it is; end of story; Christian unity in 350 words; that wasn't so hard after all.

Love and blessings,
Derek Maul


DEREK MAUL is the author of Get Real, A Spritual Journey for Men and a columist for the Tampa Tribune.



His book second book, My Heart I Carry A Star: Stories for Advent" is to be released August 2008).
Click on the link to see his newest book to be released.

He's Finished

When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished." With that He bowed His head and gave up His spirit. −John 19:30

Listen to He's Finished - by Cindy Sproles

The crack of the baseball bat echoed across the stadium. Adam pushed his glove to his brow and supported it with his free hand. The sun brought tears to his eyes as he struggled to focus on the ball. He back peddled, his eyes tracking the ball over his head and toward the fence. This was his chance to win the game. A fly catch would be the third out. A miss meant three runners in would score− a win for the other team. The crowd cheered as Adam reached over his head. The ball clipped the tip of his glove, and bounced off the wooden fence.

He stood, hands on his hips, cleats kicking the grass. He yanked off his glove and slammed it to the ground, storming off the field. He was finished.

I can't tell you the times I've thrown up my hands and said, "I'm finished." I've struggled with a writing plot, writing and rewriting but not finding the right words. I worried until I finally hit the delete key and closed the program.

So many times we give up on a project before it's finished. We're frustrated, impatient, or too lazy to see our work to completion. God spent six days forming the world, and when day seven rolled around He took a break. The writer of Genesis tells us, "He rested from His work." God was pleased with what He'd done, so He kicked up His feet − His work was finished.

Think now, about Jesus nailed to the cross. Often we take His words "it is finished" and assume Jesus simply gives up His spirit. But His words are deeper than His impending death. He was sent to complete the work. Finish the plan. To the spectators on the field of Golgotha that day, the ball sailed over His head and the enemy circled the bases. But in losing, my Christ won. In defeat, He triumphed. The final score was not a reflection of the end of the game.

When you are tempted to accept defeat, to kick the grass and curse the outcome remember Christ. Or at least, remember Adam. His reach fell short, that is true, but there are other days and more games to be played.

The final out only comes for those who refuse to step out of the dugout and play again.

Guest Devotionalist -- Terri Kelly

He Has Plans
By: Terri Kelly

Listen to He Has A Plan by - Terri Kelly

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -- Jeremiah 29:11

Devastated. Defeated. Divorced.

By the time I was 36, I had been married twice and had a young daughter. No more marriage for me. I'd made plans.

I changed jobs, bought a condominium and began a new habit. I prayed for God to plan each day.

One spring evening, I attended a local country dance, and in the middle of a promenade, I glanced at a tall, dark, and regal man. Before the evening was over, the handsome King David look alike had asked me to dance.

A year later, we'd danced our way to the altar. We began to pray for a son. After not conceiving, we visited the fertility doctor. He gave us the diagnosis that our chances of a child were slim.

Again and again we prayed. "Dear Father, will you bless us with a son?"

Grouchy and tired one morning, I decided to try another pregnancy test. God had answered my prayer. Four tests later the blue positive lines validated I was pregnant. I called my husband and the the doctor's office.

"I believe I need to see a doctor immediately. I'm expecting."

"We have you scheduled for 8:30 a.m. in seven weeks."

I hung up afraid that I would miscarry before the appointment. Hey, I'm nearly "over-the-having-a-baby-age," but God had answered one prayer, so I clung tight to His blessing, and trusted He had a plan.

Four boxes of saltines and sixteen six-packs of Sprite later, I'd passed the curvey road of nausea. My appointment rolled around.

"You're doing great," the doctor said. "Any questions?"

"Yes. Are there restrictions?"

"No restrictions," replied the doctor.

"But....."and my voice trailed off into a squeaky whimper. The doctor said I was healthy. Why the whining? I needed to model God's power within me.

Everyday I see God's presence in my life. A Godly husband, a daughter, and now a son. My plans were different than God's. "For I know the plans I have for you, you.....plans to give you hope and a future."

What if I had not prayed? What if I hadn't made the choice to submit my daily plans-- my life to God? Things might have been different.

How about you? Have you asked God to plan your day, guide your future? If you pray, you can expect an answer. He has big plans for you.


Terri Kelly and her husband, Allen, are blessed with a daughter and a son. She calls North Carolina home. In her spare time, she and Allan work on their business, which is currently undergoing a transformation. Terri holds a master's degree in elementary education and has taught for 'umpteen' years prior to her current "stay-at-home mother" job. Writing pursuits include educational grants, children's curriculum, teacher's tips, and a children's book manuscript. She prays daily for words to write, words to teach, and words to keep silent.

Guest Devotionalist -- Kathie Krakowski

Get Out of Your Comfy Chair

Listen to Get Out of Your Comfy Chair, by - Kathie Krakowski

".....I was in the Citadel of Susa....." Nehemiah 1:1b

Can I just say how much I love my power recliner? It is a big, comfy chair in my family room. I am the only one who sits in it. From this chair I watch TV, use my laptop, eat, even fall asleep. It is my version of a power tool (along with my juicer). To say that it's a place of comfort is an understatement. I cannot sit in that chair 24-7, but there are days when I want to do just that. Some days I don't feel well, or I am dog-tired. Some days I am facing a challenge that frightens me. I think Nehemiah had a day like that. He heard about the condition of Jerusalem's walls, and the people living there, and for days he sat and cried and didn't eat. Do you know the rest of the story?

The book of Nehemiah is one of my favorites for several reasons. It's about trusting God in the face of adveristy, and persevering in spirt of overwhelming odds. It's a story about mercy, restoration, forgiveness, joy, and the faithful and tender heart of our gracious God. And it's a gratifying story of an underdog coming out on top. When I read this book, I see Nehemiah prayed, planned, and perserved. The task before him was enormous and he faced tremendous opposition, but by God's grace, he was victorious. I never tire of reading it.

The last time I read Nehemiah, I chose the NIrV, which translates "citadel" as "the safest place". This makes sense, a citadel was the safest place in a city. Before Nehemiah could meet the challenge God had assigned him, he had to choose to leave a known place of comfort and safety for the hardships and dangers of the unknown. I realize my chair cannot compare with a citadel, but it is a place of comfort. I feel most safe where I am most comfortable.
The point is, my comfort and safety cannot be found in a place, or a chair, but only in the living God. He gives me everything I need to accomplish every task He sets before me, but I still have to choose to take on the assignment...and sometimes that means I have to get out of my comfy chair.Christian Devotions

Kathie Krakowski is a resident of Bear, Delaware. She is a wife, a mom, and a new grandmom (although she prefers to be called "Kiki"). She has been a pre-kindergarten teacher at a private Christian school in Newark, DE for the past 20 years and loves reading to children and teaching them how much Jesus loves them. She is a passionate worshiper of Jesus, the Lover of her soul, and enjoys expressing her devotion to Him through poetry. She also enjoys writing for children; including songs, tongue-twisters, and a series of alphabet stories that she hopes to have published.

Lessons from the Lawn -- Part 2

Lessons from the Lawn -- Part 2

Listen to Lessons from the Lawn -- Part 2, by - Cindy Sproles


Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. – Romans 12:9

I got mad today. The riding mower wouldn’t shift into gear, the weed eater stalled, and I had grass up to my ankles. The flower beds were a mass (Yes mass, not mess). They were a mass of vines and weeds. Honeysuckle had swallowed the Mountain Laurel and morning glories, in all their glory, were overtaking the fence. My only option was the push mower.

My intentions were good. I’d shove the mower beneath the shrubs and cut the vines at the roots. Not a problem. Was I ever wrong.

The first pass under the bushes was fine and the second one, too, but then I hit a snag. The vines wrapped around the blade and stalled the lawnmower. I spent the next ten minutes untangling a clump of honeysuckle. If I started the mower once, I started it five more times. Start, push, stall. Start, push, stall. So, I got mad and gave up. I’d let my husband deal with the mess/mass. I did what any logical lawn care expert would do, I moved to the front yard to wreak havoc on the morning glory vines. To my surprise—the same scenario. Start, push, stall.

My patience was shot after the first five stalls and the unbelievable amount of honeysuckle. So I decided to pull the vines by hand. As a kid we used to pull honeysuckle blooms and sip the nectar. The flowers smelled wonderful and the nectar was sweet—but they’re deceptive little rascals. The fact remains, as pretty as they are, they’re still weeds. That’s how Satan is. He appears beautiful and sweet on the outside, encouraging us to drink from his cup, but beneath the surface he is nothing more than slithering evil. His aim is to stall us—stop us dead. When we let him fool us, let him in, then within hours his vines are covering us, choking us.

Don’t be fooled by the beauty of the vine—like I said, they’re deceptive little things. Hate what is evil and hold to what is good. Pull the vines before they cover you. Their roots are shallow and they pull from the soil with ease. Allow Christ His rightful place of honor and cling to Him.

Christian Devotions

Guest Devotionalist -- Pat Patterson

"If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? -- Matthew 5:46

A GOOD DRUNK

By: Pat Patterson



Yeah I'm a Christian, but I had me a good drunk the other night.....

No, really. Found him lying in the middle of the street, bump on his head and a bottle by his side. He was about fifty something, dressed in simple clothes and stinking like a sack of dirty laundry. With slurred speech and the sweet, slushy scent of cheap alcohol lingering on his breath, he was about as common as can get.....

.....a real good drunk.

I chuckled. I'm a paramedic. I've seen it all before. It should have been a simple call-pick him up, throw him on the stretcher, and give him a ride to the ER for observation, oh, and by the way, pray for him-but it wasn't that easy. He became belligerent. Then he wanted to fight me. Then he went and opened his mouth. I won't tell you what he said. Christians don't use words like that. Or do we?

Well before you go pointing your finger at me, that man's words hurt. He hurt my pride! He made me angry!! What was I supposed to do, just stand there and take it? No way! I flung the words right back at him as fast as I could. After all, he deserved it. I was only trying to help him. Right?

Well, we all know the answer to that question. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

You know I've been a Christian for over thirty years, and you'd think by now I'd know better, but for me it's not that simple. I seem to make one mistake after another, failing the Lord in so many areas of my life that recently a thought has been heavy on my mind:

What does it really mean to be a Christian?

Does it mean never missing church? Attending the right Bible studies? Smiling at other Christians, and never uttering a foul word? Well, I believe Jesus answered my question when He said, "Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you."

"But, Lord?" I say. "Are you serious? Even him?"

If I close my eyes, I can picture Jesus hanging on the cross. If I use my imagination, I can see myself kneeling at His bloody feet. But if I put aside my pride, my arrogance, and my selfish ambitions, I can imagine that man kneeling by my side-dirty clothes, stinking breath and all-and suddenly, suddenly, everything becomes crystal clear. We're both sinners. Christ died for both of us.

I failed that test last Saturday night, it's true, but Jesus used my failure to teach me a valuable lesson. He showed me what it really means to be a Christian, and He used a good drunk to do it.....

Christian Devotions




Pat Patterson is a novelist and an Instructor of Emergency Medical Services at Wake Technical Community College in Raleigh, NC. He's also an EMT-Paramedic with over 16 years of experience.