My Connection Room

The movie, The War Room, spoke to me.  I wanted to be that kind of Christ follower.  Over the next months I pondered my devotional life and how I could become more consistent with prayers and praises. 

I needed a spot set aside for just that.  

In our home designed for us, my husband, John, had explained to our builder the kind of office he desired. It was a small space with a counter top and shelves.  After he became ill, he questioned me about how I would use that area after his death. My answer had been, “I’ll use it as my financial office.”  That satisfied him.  

I stood in the doorway and scrutinized that spot.  It would work perfectly.  I called it my “Connection Room”.  

On the wall above the counter I placed three corkboards.  The one on the left contained my prayer requests, written on pink 3 x 5 cards.  The center one was full of scriptures that spoke to me … promises and wisdom of God. The board on the right became covered with a combination of the pink card with a green card on top of it.  

These were my answered prayers.  

As the days and weeks passed, the board on the right acquired so many cards it reached maximum capacity.  Cards on top of cards.  

What a problem!

Even though I hated to remove them, I needed room for the future answers to prayer I would receive. So I made a “Believer’s Box”.  I stapled the request and the answer cards together and transferred them to that container.  It would be my personal record of God’s faithfulness.  

As I re-read each request and answer before placing them in the receptacle, my heart overflowed with praises and thanksgiving.  Such a loving God to care about these situations that may seem huge to us, but are so infinitesimal in His scope of the whole world.  

He is so very faithful. 

“But if anyone is a worshiper of God and does His will, God listens to him.” John 9:31 (ESV)

Read more...

J O Y

Joy should be a nice name to have.  Right? Many people in my life have told me what a wonderful name that is.  

They just didn’t know. 

In my childhood, we had a plaque hanging on the wall that said:

            J – Jesus First

            O – Others Next

            Y – Yourself Last

Repeatedly over the months and years, my mother made the meaning of that “Y” clear.  

“You need to remember that everyone else in the world is more important than you.”  

And so, I did.  I knew I had no value.  

When I married at 17, someone gave us a gift of that same plaque to hang on the wall in our home. My worthless condition continued. 

After a divorce, I searched for meaning in my life.  One year passed … and then two.  Then came the day I saw all the words in the scripture “love your neighbor as yourself”. Was I supposed to like me?  

Another two years passed as I pondered those words.  I removed the J O Y plaque from the wall and threw it in the trash.  I posted the verse about loving me on the front of the refrigerator.  

Finally, I believed!  

Inwardly, I changed the meaning of my name.  Joy meant delight, bliss and gladness.  What a difference that made in my life.  

As I listened to last Sunday’s sermon, my mind did a double-take at the words I heard.  After rewinding, the same words were repeated. The pastor had no idea how he was messing with my mind.  

It’s taken me a few days to truly let it sink in.   

J O Y is so much more than just delight, bliss and gladness.  In his explanation of the word, the J still stands for Jesus.  The Y still stands for you.  But the O stands for zero.  

There is nothing between Jesus and me!  

“For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  Galatians 5:14 (NIV)

Read more...

How Are You?

It seems like an innocent, caring question.  How are you? I’m sure we’ve all asked it of someone. Yet that question does not always evoke a warm, fuzzy reaction.  

A few days ago, I was with a group of widows.  It was mentioned that one recently widowed lady had not been attending church.  The reason given by her, “I don’t want everyone asking me how I am.”  

We understood.  Another lady expressed her anger.

 

“What am I supposed to say? My husband just died.  How do you think I am?”  

It’s only been a few years for me.  I remember thinking, when asked that question, “How can I answer that?  I don’t know how I am.”  And the way I was feeling at that moment could change in an instant.  A smell, a song, a certain food could arouse an abrupt response within me.  My emotional state resembled a roller coaster.  

And so, the pat answer is “Fine.”  Big fat lie. 

All this was percolating in my thoughts when I read an article written by Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook’s COO.  Her husband died in 2015 at the age of 47.  She echoed the above sentiment.  She wanted to scream, “My husband died.  How do you think I am?”  

The question can at least be modified to ask, “How are you today?”  That indicates some semblance of understanding, that each day is different. 

Some days better than others.  

This does not apply only to widows.  In any circumstance where there has been a life-changing event, the person affected doesn’t need that question.  A hug works for some.  Others just need to share about what happened.  

Some just want to hear, “It’s sure good to see you.”  

             "Be gentle with one another, sensitive." Ephesians 4:32 (MSG)

Read more...

Driving Force

For several weeks I’ve been cleaning, discarding and organizing my writing/sewing room.  I’ve uncovered some reminders of wonderful memories. But I also found papers that I have no idea why I kept them.  

One discovery was an assignment I was given to ask others what they saw as my driving force.  How very interesting to read their opinions. Most of the comments created a warm fuzzy.  But a few caused me to pause and contemplate.  

Was I really like that? 

In the midst of my work, I took a break and purchased a different car.  I always name them.  Since it is a Lexus, the name Lexi was suggested.  I like that, but when I looked up the meaning I voted no.  I didn’t aspire to be a defender of men.  

As I continued the work in my room, my thoughts vacillated between pondering what my driving force is and what to name my car.  And that’s when those two very diverse concepts came together.  

I named it Hope; confident expectation of what God has promised.  

As I look back over the last four years since my husband’s death, hope in the future is what kept me moving forward.  

I discovered my driving force.  

“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 future.”  Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Read more...