love

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Loving God

In my last post I talked about God’s Christmas wish list, and how our love for him is top priority. Here are some more ways to love God.

Trust and Obey
Another gift God appreciates is our faith. Do we trust Him? My friend Cynthia, who writes an excellent blog about prayer, recently wrote about something God told her:

When I meet you the way you ask Me to, you are blessed. You receive My grace-gifts, and you feel blessed. But when I don’t meet you the way you hoped yet you continue to trust Me anyhow—then you bless Me. You give Me your trust-gift, and I feel blessed.

Giving God our trust totally makes his day. So does our obedience. Obeying God tells him that we love him. Consider John 14:23: “Jesus replied, ‘Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.'”

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What God Wants for Christmas

What do you want for Christmas? As small children sitting on Santa’s lap, we quickly learned to rattle off a long list of our desires—mostly things we’ve seen in ads on TV. Now that we’re older, we still have our lists, posted online at the request of family members trying to assemble a Christmas shopping list.

As the primary gift shopper in our household, I was scanning these lists when the thought occurred to me… what does Jesus want for Christmas? After all, it’s his birthday!

I was reminded of a passage I read recently—found in both Matthew 16:23 and Mark 8:33—where Jesus tells Peter “Get behind me, Satan! … You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” I wondered, what are the concerns of God? What could He, the owner of the cattle on a thousand hills (not to mention the rest of creation) possibly lack? Or, if you’re not the practical gift type, what could we give Him to make Him happier?

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The Greatest is Love

Over the last 17 months, I’ve been slowly crawling  my way through the passage in 2 Peter 1:3, 5-8, where Peter lays out God’s steps to success. Well, we’ve finally arrived at the ultimate goal: love. All the lessons about goodness, gaining knowledge of God, learning self-control and perseverance,  learning to see things God’s way, and seeing people from God’s point of view finally have purpose when we begin to love as God loves.

It takes love to produce lasting fruit—effective and productive ministry. Without it, we might know about Jesus, but our knowledge is useless. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:1-3, without love we are nothing.

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Dialog? or Diatribe?

You think politics and religion get people fired up? I’ve discovered something even more apt to generate extreme views and robust “discussion,” and it has nothing to do with the economy or same-sex marriage. Yup, I’m talking about food.

It seems that everyone has decided they’re an expert. They do or do not eat [fill in soy, bacon, sugar, etc., etc.], and they’re convinced that you should, or should not, eat it as well.

I was chatting with a group of women a few days ago, and someone asked if anyone had a good cold veggie salad recipe. I offered that I make a broccoli salad that is pretty popular at pot-lucks, and started to list off the ingredients. Since we’re all on diets of one form or another, I mentioned that I often substitute turkey bacon for higher-fat “real” bacon—and a lady I did not know, sitting across the table, started screaming at me!

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Talk, Talk, Talk

After a month of house guests, appointments, projects, meetings, errands, and working overtime, we finally had a day all to ourselves. An entire day. Just for us. No visitors. No interruptions. No obligations.

Once a month, my sweetie and I set aside a “date day” to spend time together. The only rule is that we can’t delete if off our calendar. It can be moved, if something important comes up, but sometime during each month we take a day for ourselves. Today was the day. I was eager to get reacquainted with this wonderful guy I’d married 33 years ago.

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Like

[Yet another installment in my series on “Godly Success,” based on 2 Peter 1:3, 5-8.]

Cain killed Abel and started a war that hasn’t ended yet. We see it continue with Jacob and Esau, Leah and Rachel, James and John (I bet Jesus didn’t give them the nickname “Sons of Thunder” because they were so kind to one another). My husband, one of six siblings, remembers being repeatedly pounded into the lawn by his next-older brother during elementary school. Our two daughters also had their moments—our favorite was, “She’s breathing my air!”

As an only child, I really didn’t understand sibling relationships. Thank goodness my husband could offer insight on how to deal with dueling sisters! I honestly thought they hated one another until a third party was added to the household. When our girls were in 8th and 10th grades, we became foster parents for a 15-year-old teenage girl. Suddenly, it was a whole new ballgame. Our kids welcomed the newcomer, but in any sort of conflict it was the sisters who presented a united front.

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Raca!

Would you walk up to your friend, criticize their political or religious beliefs, and insult their morals and/or intelligence? How about insulting their friends or their spouse? You wouldn’t have many friends, at least for long!

Xxxx shared Being Liberal‘s photo.

(M) This is great. Make sure to do it (and share it), if you want an anti-gay politician’s head to explode.

Yet, people seem to be doing this all the time in blog comments, on Facebook, and through other social media. They post cartoons or remarks that are just plain nasty—and largely based on untrue stereotypes.

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Grandma Brain?

Oh my, is it time for another post already? While I’m usually prepared ahead of time, I didn’t even think about posting something for today. Not until now.

I have the perfect excuse, however. Blame it on “grandma brain.”

After driving 1,400 miles, we’re finally here in Washington meeting our new granddaughter. For some reason I have totally lost track of what day it is. We’re learning that grandchildren are a bit distracting.

Anyway, I didn’t come up with anything profound or insightful today; I’m taking the day off. Instead, I’m offering visual proof of this tiny little girl that has us totally mesmerized. I’ll be back on schedule by Friday. I think.

Here she is, just a couple of weeks old and almost five pounds. Not bad for arriving five weeks early!

The orange tube was for supplemental feedings while she was still in the NICU, where she was when this photo was taken. (The tube was no longer needed by the time she finally came home, this past weekend.)

And here’s grandpa holding his granddaughter for the first time. You can see where she gets her hairstyle.

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The Perfect Marriage

Can you describe God’s perfect plan for marriage—or any relationship, for that matter? What is really important?

A quick Google search for “marriage compatibility quiz” turned up over a half-million hits. Many of the quizzes were quite silly, such as the “Love Calculator” that promises to predict how well your relationship will work based on your birth dates.

While I firmly believe that making decisions based on astrology is sinful (see my post on this topic), I don’t believe God has a problem with our poking a bit of fun, so I entered our birthdays and clicked the button. The results? Pete and I are “93% compatible.” (After 32 years of marriage, I could have guessed that.)

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The Perfect Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving. That lovely holiday, with the family gathered around the table. Soft music plays in the background, snow gently falls outside. Dad is carving the succulent turkey while the children sit quietly in their seats, mouths watering. The conversation circles the table as each person describes the many things they have been thankful for this past year.

Thanksgiving, that hectic holiday. Mom is trying to gather the family, put the final touches on the dinner, pour the drinks, and carve the turkey, all at the same time. At one end of the table, Aunt Mattie is well into yet another stomach-turning description of her recent root canal. At the other end, Uncle Milt has clearly imbibed too much eggnog. Grandpa is complaining that the pouring rain is making his rheumatism flare up. The eight-year-old twins are poking one another with their forks and fighting over who will get the drumsticks, while the football game blares from the TV in the next room. No one has seen Dad in the several years since he ran off with that floozy account manager.

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