by Stacey | May 15, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
The only comforting words in times of grief are the words of God. So today, as my family grieves the loss of another loved one, I offer only His words for they are the only words that matter.
You formed her inward parts; you knitted her together in her mother’s womb. I praise you, for she was fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. Her frame was not hidden from you, when she was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw her unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for her, when as yet there was none of them (Psalm 139:13-16).
And because her death did not surprise God, and I know she loved Jesus with her whole heart, I do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For I believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so I believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him (1 Thessalonians 4:14). Including her.
And as I wait for that glorious day of Jesus’ return, when those who live in Him will be reunited with those who died in Him to forever worship Him, I offer praise to the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts me in all my troubles, so that I can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort I myself received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
Death makes me HATE sin. And death stirs such a longing for heaven where He will wipe every tear from my eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away (Revelation 21:4).
May Your words, O Lord, bring peace and comfort to my soul.
by Stacey | Apr 24, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
I remember when my parents could do anything, and when my Dad was the strongest and smartest man alive. I remember when my mom’s word was law and how she never stopped moving, always cooking and cleaning. I grew up happy, safe, warm and loved. (That’s me on the far left.)
Now, I’m a mom. I have kids that look at me with adoring and trusting eyes. They, like I did, believe that money grows on trees, the cupboards will always be full, and that they could never, ever, hurt my feelings.
Oh, the blissful ignorance of youth.
I’m not the strongest or the smartest. I struggle every day to gather the energy to wipe their faces, feed their bellies, and to smile through the tears as their sometimes hurtful words pierce my heart.
Just like my parents did.
I battle feelings of guilt, sure that I’m on the cusp of some irreparable mistake that will scar them for life. I work to exhaustion because there is never enough time, energy, or answers. I must lack what they need because, if I’m honest, I’ll admit that I have no idea what their real physical needs are. Not really.
Do they need to be homeschooled? Public schooled? Private schooled? Do they need more time with mom and dad? Less?
Do they need more social times with friends their age? More opportunities to shine outside the family unit?
Do they need firmer boundaries? Fewer boundaries? Consequences? Grace?
I don’t know.
And neither did my parents.
And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe it’s okay that this mom doesn’t have all the answers. Maybe what I really need is to spend more time praying, more time examining my own heart, actions, and choices. Maybe it’s less about what my kids are (or are not) doing, and more about how I am reacting to it. Maybe, what God is trying to teach me at this moment, is not how to be a better mom to my children, but how to be a more obedient and loving daughter to Him.
Maybe this season isn’t just about shaping them, but it’s also about shaping me.
My parents made mistakes. Their parents made mistakes. I’m going to make mistakes. But I serve a God who can take the ashes of my mistakes and create something beautiful.
by Stacey | Apr 10, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Delivered. Sealed with His Spirit. Forgiven, therefore forgiving.
The aroma of Christ wafting through an unbelieving world. A letter from Christ, written with the Spirit of God onto the tablet of a human heart. My heart.
Transformed from last week. From yesterday. From this morning.
A treasure in a jar of clay.
Afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, but not crushed, despairing, forsaken or destroyed.
Renewed.
Oh Lord, make it so in me.
2 Corinthians 1-4
by Stacey | Apr 3, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Two viruses. Individually weak, but powerful when combined. Organ-attacking, antibiotic-resistant, and having a rip-roaring good time inside of me.
But aren’t we all, in some way, under attack? Maybe not from a bacteria on steroids, but definitely from the Enemy and from the temptations of our own sinful nature.
Fortunately, I was at the doctor’s office with my son the day this virus exploded in angry blisters on my shin. Blisters that erupted and covered my knee and lower leg in a few short hours.
The doctor cautioned me with words I wish I could pull out of my ears and forget.
Words like: Resistant. Urgent. Deadly.
What if God’s plan for my life includes illness? A serious illness? What if it includes hospitalization? Maybe death?
But the great Physician is always with me. I know He is able to provide physical healing, if He desires. And I rejoice that He is even more eager to do the bigger miracle of forgiving my sin.
Matthew 9
English Standard Version (ESV)
Jesus Heals a Paralytic
9 And getting into a boat he crossed over and came to his own city. 2 And behold, some people brought to him a paralytic, lying on a bed. And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven.” 3 And behold, some of the scribes said to themselves, “This man is blaspheming.” 4 But Jesus, knowing[a] their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? 5 For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? 6 But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he then said to the paralytic—“Rise, pick up your bed and go home.” 7 And he rose and went home. 8 When the crowds saw it, they were afraid, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to men.
Sometimes, like the scribes, we are so blinded by the physical circumstances that we miss the greater miracle. With that in mind, I prayed a hard prayer—not my will God, but Yours. And I waited for God to do in my life what He planned before the beginning of time to do.
I praise God that the antibiotics worked and I am now symptom and blister free. I also praise God that He has done the bigger miracle and forgiven my sins and healed my spiritual sickness. Sickness that would have ended in eternal death and separation from Him, had Christ not intervened.
Another plan that God put into place from the very beginning.
Praise God indeed.
by Stacey | Mar 27, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Life has a way of bringing even the strongest person to their knees. Inconvenient health surprises, upset children, and stress can undo even the best, high energy, and most positive person.
Totally.
And that’s where I am. Undone. On my knees. Completely overwhelmed. But let me tell you, the view from down here is astounding.
God has hidden slivers of pure joy in the chaos. In opportunities to extend grace, offer forgiveness, and find the colour lurking behind the black and white. And when I find those slivers, life explodes in a rainbow of pure joy.
Joy in drawing closer to God despite overwhelming uncertainty.
Joy in surrendering my plans for His; my will to His.
Joy in allowing God to reveal the many things that I struggle to carry. The very things that He wants to carry for me, if I’d let Him.
I’m learning that motherhood is both the most important and hardest role I’ll ever fill. And I’m learning to circle back to grace and find those precious moments of joy.
I’m learning more about the hugeness of my sin and the constant battle between my own sinful nature and the Holy Spirit.
I’m learning that I have a lot more to learn. A lot more.
And just when I think I have a handle on it all God peels back another layer and I see my smallness in contrast to His greatness with fresh eyes.
I have barely scratched the surface of who God is and what His plan is for my life, and how it can all be pure joy, if I let it.
You formed her inward parts; you knitted her together in her mother’s womb. I praise you, for she was fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. Her frame was not hidden from you, when she was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw her unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for her, when as yet there was none of them (Psalm 139:13-16).
