His Promises

- Listen to His Promises- By Cindy Sproles

I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.—Genesis 9:13

The rain started as a mist. I peered through the sunroof at a thunderhead looming above. Bubbles of clouds stacked one on the other, heavy with the tears of heaven, waiting. Our area is so dry. When the rest of the country suffers from fires and flooding, we see the beauty of a clear and cloudless sky—the down side, no rain.

I parked my car then pushed open the door. The rain dropped as God dowsed the earth. I slammed the door shut and watched as sheets of rain blew across the parking lot. Folks ran for the safety of their cars. For some reason that didn’t seem right. We’ve been drought stricken for months, why run from the rain? The water pelted my vehicle as I watched the edges of red, lavender and blue form across the sky. A rainbow climbed its way across the heavens and I was awed at the boldness of the colors the artist had painted.

There’s nothing more beautiful than a promise. Think about it. A promise is like a soul held tenderly in the hands of the Father—made, kept, and protected. For centuries God has drawn His rainbows across the sky reminding us of His presence and His promise, of His love and of His discipline. When I see a rainbow I’m reminded of the sin that caused the discipline and resulted in a consequence. I’m reminded of my own sin. By the same token, I see the promise of a loving forgiveness. One I am often unworthy to have.

A friend asked me, “So what about this God stuff? Do you really believe He answers prayers, keeps promises?”

I thought of the rainbow—a visual promise that is still faithful and true. I can’t hear God speak audibly, nor can I see Him. Why should I believe His promise where there is nothing about Him that my physical eyes can see? But He’s there and though He doesn’t answer every prayer the way I want, He keeps every promise He’s ever made, including the one to forgive me.

I opened the door and stepped into the rain, then lifted my face toward the sky. Water splashed over me and it felt wonderful. My hair dripped and my shirt was plastered tight to my skin. But I walked slow allowing the freshness of God’s rain to wash across me and resting assured that His promise still stands.

Do you believe in the promises of the rainbow? God promised He would never leave us, never abandon us, and He hasn’t. Open your heart to Him. Let him breathe the hope of a renewed freshness into you. He keeps His promises.

Christian Devotions

Guest Devotionalist - Sue Payne

Milkweed - By Sue Payne

"You should not be surprised at my saying, 'You must be born again.' The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear the sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." John 3:7-8



Recently, I watched the miraculous transformation of a milkweed pod as it sat on the windowsill in our kitchen. The once-closed, green pod eventually dried and opened to reveal its new life within; tiny, tear-shaped seeds, each adorned with delicate silk thread "wings".

Lacking the aid of the breeze needed to fly to freedom, I had the privilege of watching this slow motion transformation as these tiny seeds burst forth in an amazing orderly and artistic manner. Normally, the wind would simply carry these tiny dancers upon its breath, eventually emptying the pod of new life, to a place of new birth. Designed and created with perfect wisdom, our God gives the milkweed everything it needs to grow.

God has designed the human heart to grow as well and has made available everything it needs to fulfill His purposes. Like the milkweed pod, the heart holds new life within its grasp.

Unfortunately, many of us keep our heart under wraps, similar to the tightly closed, green pod of the milkweed. Past sins, burdens, and bitterness keep our hearts hardened, hiding the contents in fear of judgment and ridicule. Selfishness may keep a heart from sharing its life within. And there are those of us who believe that because of circumstances out of our control such as abuse, addiction, ignorance or neglect, our hearts are void of God's life-giving spirit. Self-respect becomes non-existent and the heart lays dormant and frozen.

In His great wisdom, God knows the hard, outer shell of our heart must be broken in order that the fresh winds of His Spirit will blow, enabling its new life to fly to freedom. He breaks us in order to make us better. A broken heart, spilled out and rid of its fears, makes more room for Him. God breaks our will so that we might see His. His power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).

The heaven-sent mission of the Holy Spirit is about peace, confidence, hope, and freedom in Christ. The mission is only accomplished when we choose to walk in faith and to learn to trust in God's perfect love for us.

That once frozen, hardened, cold heart becomes a rushing flow of supernatural, new life when we yield all things to Him. Then, upon the breath of the Holy Spirit, God's peace and love will blow wherever it pleases, making His peace in your life known to those around you. And soon, you will see the new life flying to freedom on the wings of the Spirit, finding new birth and growing in places you never imagined!

Fly with Christ!
Sue Payne



Sue Payne is a freelance writer whose articles have appeared in home schooling newsletters and church news bulletins. Most recently one of her articles took second place at the Delaware Christian Writer's Conference. 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.

He Said -- She Said June 27, 2008

He Said -- Wave Walking

“Lord, if it's you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” Jesus said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” - Matthew 14:28-31

What would if feel like to drown?

In a few weeks I’m traveling to Central America to surf the Pacific coast of Nicaragua. I’m not worried about wiping out. I’ve done enough of that already know I can’t catch and ride every wave. Failure is a part of success. But I do worry, a little, about drowning.

When I read the story of Peter wave-walking across the sea I don’t judge his “little faith.” I have looked up the face of a twenty foot set rolling toward me, knowing there is no way out up and over. I’ve felt the weightless of free falling as the lip tosses me onto a reef.

“If Peter had kept his eyes on Jesus he would have been fine,” the Christian-lite landlubber preachers tell us from the safety of their pulpits. Coaching from the beach is easy, but it takes a true disciple to get into the water.

The call to the abundant life is real, but so are the dangers. Without the sting of death, living on the edge of adventure means nothing. I like Peter. He’s a man of action.

• Peter called and Christ said “come”


• Peter got out


• Peter walked on the waves


• Peter experienced both excitement and fear


• He sank


• Peter cried out


• Jesus reached out

It is that last part, the Jesus reaching out, that I like best.

Jesus didn't scold Peter for his foolish faith. If anything, Christ praised him. Remove one adjective and it reads, “You of … faith. Why did you doubt?”

Why indeed? Success lies in only one direction — straight ahead. If you look back, you’ll get sidetracked.

That night on the Sea of Tiberius the wind was real, the waves were large but sometimes a boat, even a large boat, will get swamped. The storms of life will come. That’s a fact. But if I’ve learned anything from wave walking it’s this: life begins when you jump in.

Are you stuck on the beach? Take a dip. You know what God is calling you to do. Now do it!

Christian Devotions

She Said -- Scared to Death

- Scared to Death - By Cindy Sproles


"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." "Come," Jesus said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" - Matthew 14:28-31


I gazed up as the green cars soared overhead, then swallowed and pulled my shoulders back. “Naw, I'll be fine.” I'd convinced myself there'd be nothing to this adventure — this it was do-able, that I’d be fine. Then I took a deep breath and recalled of the ride’s specifications: zero to 40 mph in two seconds, maximum speed, 67 mph, seven inversions through two subterranean trenches, the longest 2-minutes and 15-seconds. For me, the ride would last an eternity.

I hate roller coasters, but the mother in me said I should spend quality time with my sons. With feet like lead and a mouth dry as sand, I smiled and followed my boys to the front of the line.

“Mom, you're the best. You'll love this,” said Cameron. Somehow, I didn’t think so.
More coaster cars roared past; metal grinding against metal, passengers squealing, women and some men bawling. My husband leaned over and offered to wait with me if I was too chicken. But I knew that wouldn't be fair. My husband’s the biggest kid of all.

The cars stopped and I slid in, my legs braced me against the front of the cart. They snapped the shoulder harness in place and I changed my mind. Too late. At the first inversion I felt as though I was going to slip through the harness and fall.
I can't count the times that I’ve fallen and failed Christ, the number of days when I’ve lost courage. And never once has he denounced me. Instead He's told me to come to Him, to joyfully step out on faith and walk toward Him. Unworthy as I am, He’s reached His hand to me and pulled me to safety, even when my heart has failed me.
What an amazing God.

Halfway through the ride, my husband’s arm came across me and grabbed my harness, and then Cameron's. My men pressed against me holding me firm. I cracked open one eye to see them laughing hysterically, yet they never turned loose. One ride on the Hulk was enough, but I will never turn loose of the arms that hold me, that love me, that keep me close.

When I keep my eyes centered on the Father, regardless of the perils that surround me, He never lets me fall. It's all about focus and trust.

Do you feel like you're sinking? Cry to Him. He will lift you up.


Christian Devotions

Guest Devotionalist - Ariel Allison

“And I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to Me, says the Lord Almighty.” 2nd Corinthians 6:18

The cross that marks my father’s grave is nothing but a broken tree branch lashed together with twine. Knee high weeds grow above the sunken ground where the rustic plywood casket lies. The last time I visited his grave was late at night, shivering from the cold, staring at the peeling bark with the help of flickering headlights. I stood there, breathing in the chill of a Tennessee Autumn, and once again I felt the longing.

What I missed, standing on that frigid hilltop, was not the physical presence of my father, it was what I had never gotten, what I would never get; the love of my father.

The hardest part is not accepting the truth about our lives, but living with a longing that may never be satisfied. The easier thing to do is stuff the ache somewhere deep down inside where we won’t visit it again because, in essence, a longing is something that tugs at our heartstrings and makes us hunger. But sometimes the visitation is an act of healing. We need to approach that cross on a hilltop and admit that we are empty, longing for our Father – our true Father. The longing is a good thing. A right thing. A painful thing. A healing thing.

Almost five years have passed since we lowered my father into his final resting place. The longing is not gone – will never be gone in fact – but the healing is well underway. The rustic cross above my dad’s grave, represents the truth that I do have a Father who loves me. I have a Father who will never leave me nor forsake me.


Ariel Allison is the co-author of Daddy Do You Love Me: a Daughter’s Journey of Faith and Restoration (New Leaf Press, 2006). She ponders on life as a mother of all boys at http://www.themoabclub.blogspot.com/ and on her thoughts as a redeemed dreamer at http://www.arielallison.blogspot.com/.

Guest Devotionalist -- Ron Benrey

UNITY

By: Ron Benrey

“I ask ... that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you ... (John 17:20, NRSV)

Before I became a Christian—I’m a late-bloomer, baptized less than ten years ago—I saw Christianity as a vast monolith: billions of people who shared the same beliefs. I was astonished to discover that the community of Christians is more fractured than a bag of crushed ice and that in-fighting among Christians is as common as sharing the Lord’s Supper.

Jesus clearly anticipated that Christians would disagree, but I think the disciples who heard him pray for unity would be dumbfounded to learn there may be 40,000 Christian denominations around the world. This is a breathtaking estimate, but even the most cautious count—9,000 denominations—is an extraordinary number. There are more than 2,000 Christian denominations in North America alone, each with its own spin on some Christian teaching or form of church government.

No other worldwide religion has as much “diversity.” It prompts thinking Christians to wonder what happened to Paul’s teaching that we’re all part of the “single body” (1 Corinthians 12).

My introduction to denominationalism—narrow-minded devotion to a specific teaching—came at the first Christian writers’ conference I attended. One of the other conferees told me in all sincerity that I’d made a “fatal mistake” when I’d chosen my mainstream denomination, because its teachings are not truly Christian. “You think you’re saved,” he said, “but you’re bound for Hell, until you join a real church.”

I recall using some distinctly non-Christian language when I urged him to worry about someone else’s salvation at the conference. Happily, I’d learned enough about Christianity by then to recognize that he was hot under the collar about teachings that had nothing to do with core principles of Christianity—the key doctrines that C. S. Lewis called “Mere Christianity.”

Most of the tussles among Christians fall into that category, because when you think about it Christians have almost nothing to fight over:

God’s Grace is available in unlimited supply—take as much as your situation requires.

Your personal relationship with God can be as deep (or as shallow) as you want—tap into it whenever the Spirit moves you.

And as for the Spirit—well, He’ll provide as much counseling and comforting as you’ need.

Christianity may have more flavors than an ice-cream maker’s convention, but I don’t expect to find any denominations in Heaven.

Ron Benrey, the author of the soon to be published Complete Idiot’s Guide to Christian Mysteries, an explanation of Christianity’s toughest teachings, is a prolific writer who has written nine non-fiction books and co-written nine novels with his wife Janet. Ron teaches courses and workshops at major Christian Writers’ Conferences on topics ranging from plotting to copyright law. He holds a bachelor's degree in electrical engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, a master's degree in management from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, and a juris doctor from the Duquesne University School of Law. He’s a member of the Bar of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Ron and Janet live in North Carolina

He Said, She Said -- June 20, 2008

The Graduate - He Said

- Listen to The Graduate- He Said, By Eddie Jones

“I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” – Luke 15:7

The instructions were explicit. There was to be no cheering, no clapping — no whistling or calling of your child’s name. The culmination of twelve years of formal education was to be celebrated with silence. All the homework, lab experiments, research papers, class projects and late night study sessions had earned my son the right to rush across the stage and return to his seat empty handed. Even the real diplomas were stored in a box off stage.

As I watched him hurry across the platform I thought of how many times my wife and I had preached the importance of education and how on this, the biggest day of his high school career, we couldn’t applaud his efforts.

The silence was deafening.

Life is that way, sometimes. To often we reach our goals only to find the fame fleeting, the cheers muted. The world’s best golfer fights through an injury to win a major tournament and, after five days and 91 holes, his reward is a ten second sound bite on the evening news.

Man was meant for more than restrained adoration, made for more than solemn tributes. He was and is created in the image of God. Mark Twain was right when he said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.”

It’s true. We appreciate being appreciated — wives, especially. And it helps to hear the words, “well done, good job and I’m proud of you,” even if for a few moments. But the applause is not enough because in the end, adoration is addicting.

Fame begets pride and pride gives birth to sin which, when it is full grown, kills.

Later that evening as I settled down with my Bible, I thought of my son’s achievements and how proud I was of his hard work, of how I’d wished I could have cheered when they called his name. Then I re-read the words of Jesus and was reminded that the real hand clapping and foot stomping began years earlier when my son gave his life to Christ.

“There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents,” said Jesus. I was glad to know that the crowd had clapped and cheered on the day my son had repented and chosen Christ as his rabbi. In the end, that is the only achievement that matters, the only true hope I have for each of my sons, nieces and nephew.

But this I know for certain. On the day when I see my savior take His place of honor on the heavenly throne, no one will be able to silence my applause or quiet my voice as I chant the name, “Jesus Christ!” again and again.

… and again.

Christian Devotions

Lost -- She Said

- Listen to Lost - He Said, By Cindy Sproles


"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." - Luke 15:7


I was lost! Someplace where Mount Le Conte meets heaven, the Smokey Mountain mist sailed in on a breeze and covered the summit. The crystal blue sky turned white and miles of breathtaking views vanished in seconds. So I sat. Nothing else I could do. I'd only taken a short hike from the camp but everyone would wonder where I was. After all, who'd have thought I would be lost. When the minutes became hours and the fog did not lift, fear crept in.

The Father knows us each by name. He numbers his flock and when one wanders-when one is lost - He begins His search. Sometimes we elude Him unintentionally, stepping behind a rock to avoid detection and keep our sin private. Other times we just wander off to graze on the worldly desires that, in and of themselves may not bad, but which cause us to become distracted.

I was lost so I crawled across the ground in search of a pathway I couldn't see. I knew the others would be searching for me, and they were, so eventually I stopped crawling, sat and waited.

At last the hand of a friend touched my shoulders. A shriek joy and laughter sang across the pass and echoed off the mountain. Lisa embraced me and sobbed. "I was scared to death," she said. "I asked God to find you. How could someone be lost so close to heaven?" Never before had I felt such warmth and happiness as my friends celebrated. The mountainside rejoiced.

When I think of the times I sin--fail God, I hang my head. Still, Christ searches for me. He looks behind every bush and tree for this lamb who has lost her way. And when He spies me, crouched next to a rock, He lifts me into the air, and there thunderous rejoicing in heaven.

If you're lost and crawling on your hands and knees. Stop. Sit still. Allow Christ to find you in the mist. You are as worthy as the rest. There will be great rejoicing because you have been found.

And when we find our way back into His arms, the Shepherd cries tears of elation.

Guest Devotionalist -- Aaron Gansky

Namesake - Part 3 By: Aaron Gansky Again she conceived, and when she gave birth to a son she said, "Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons." So he was named Levi. -- Genesis 29:34-35 We shuffle into the doctor's waiting room and my wife takes a clipboard with sundry paperwork. Josiah busied himself bringing color to Spider-Man's epic battle against evil in his latest coloring book. Elijah was interested in two things, one on either side of the room. His two-year-old logic insists that it should be possible to be in two separate places at once, and so he conducts an experiment with this in mind. It consists primarily of running at brake-neck speeds from one end to the other. How can he go so fast with those two tiny legs? I'm fifteen times older than him, a wee bit taller, and can't keep pace. Like any father, this leads me to the natural conclusion: this boy will make me money someday. So I smile and let him run, making sure he doesn't plow into anyone along the way. We're excited. Today my wife will have another ultrasound, but this time the baby is far enough along to determine gender. People tell us to wait until the birth, to be surprised. We say, "We'll be surprised at the ultrasound." Call us new-fashioned. And we were surprised. My money was definitely on a girl. I figure, law of averages, right? Three kids, you should be able to get at least ONE girl. Maybe it's just not in me. Leah was the wife of Jacob. Jacob did not love her, not the way he loved her younger sister Rachel. But God worked a miracle, and opened Leah's womb and Rachel was barren (at least at first). Leah's third son was named Levi, which might mean "attached." Leah's hope was that the birth of a third son would win her the affection of her husband. And our third son has brought our family just a little closer. Josiah is excited about the eminent arrival of the new boy (he sings him to sleep each night via mommy's belly-button). Elijah, who, until this time, had little interest in the baby, was now able to put a face (skullish as it is) to what was inside mommy, and now will talk to him. The tribe of Levi were responsible for ministerial duties among the other tribes. It is our desire that Levi, like his namesake, will carry the name of God on his lips. And, with the coming of Levi, we'll have a prophet (Elijah), a priest (Levi), and a king (Josiah). Aaron Gansky lives with his wife and 2.5 children in Calfornia. He is a high school creative writing teacher, a novelist and a writer. Aaron and his family eagerly await the arrival of the other .5 of baby Gansky, due in the fall.