Archive for the ‘Not Food’ Category

1 May

“Use a Sharpie!”

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

“Because, okay?  I just know these things, so you should trust me.”

We read.
We read a lot. 
Our kids cannot not remember getting new books to add to their reading collection.
And what’s the first thing you do to your new book, before heading out the door to school with it?
You brand it.
Yep, put your moniker right on it, big and bold enough for all passersby to know it belongs to you.

The challenge came as no surprise by the time our third son joined the party.

“Why, mommy?”

“Because, you have to use this pen so your name will not rub off.”

“But I want to use my purple marker.”

“You can’t use your markers, because they’ll  just smear.  You need to use the black Sharpie.”

“But I can just write my name with this pencil.”

“No, you cannot.  It won’t show up good enough.”

“What about this purple crayon?”

“Honey, no, you cannot use crayon, it might rub off, too.  Just use the Sharpie.”

After exhausting all other options, he sat down at the kitchen table, picked up the Sharpie and started to write his name on the cover of his new book.  I felt satisfied in this win, even though I felt like I was having this same exchange every time he got a new book.  After flipping through the mail and putting up a few groceries, I noticed that he had switched the Sharpie for the purple marker when I wasn’t looking.

“No!  See how it smears when you rub your hand across it?  I told you to use the Sharpie!”

There are things we teach our children.  There are things we’ve experienced, things we’ve learned through our own successes and mistakes.  There are things we want to keep our kids from having to go through.  So this particular time, the lesson is not a big deal.  Eventually, through trial and error, he would have figured out why it’s best to use a Sharpie for marking ownership of the book.  Actually, he did.  See, even though I tried to get him to trust me on this one, and just use the Sharpie in the first place, his inquiring mind wanted to figure out the “why” part all by himself.  He’s now ten years old.  His brothers are 14 and 19.  Do they listen to me all the time?  No.  But they know that they can trust my advice, and guidance, and that I would not tell them anything to cause them harm.  There are some things in life that they just have to figure out on their own, regardless of my parental coaching.

I’m pledging today, and writing it with a Sharpie, that I will not use the phrase, “I told you so”.  🙂

1 Apr

Blessing at CiCi’s Pizza

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , , .

Today in prayer, I asked for my Heavenly Father to cleanse me of my sinful nature, to forgive me, to take away my quick judgement of others, to help me specifically in listening to and obeying His will for my life.  I prayed for Him to empty my house and fill me up so that I could share His love the way He desires.

After church service, I asked my 9 year old where he would like to eat for lunch.  Since it was just going to be the two of us, I thought it would be a nice treat to let him decide.  Understand, I was prepared for my least favorite dining establishments to surface as his die-hard top choice.  Any of you out there with children or grandchildren, or even younger siblings, know where I’m going with this.  My idea of a yummy Sunday dinner does not include places where you can fill up your truck with diesel, buy that roll of paper towels you’ve been needing at home for 3 days and sit down to a dinner of chicken fried steak before picking up your dessert candy bar on the way to the check out register.  It also doesn’t include places with sticky tables, 74 flavors of pancake syrups and a row of “drop your quarter here to win” machines.  So when he said, ‘CiCi’s Pizza!”, I quickly agreed.  It might not be a restaurant in my top ten list, but it was in his, and a far better choice than some of the other places that share a position in that same list.  The fact that I only had $13 dollars in cash in my purse also made it easy to say “yes” to CiCi’s.

You might think that’s the blessing I’m getting to.  But it’s not.  I was, however, very thankful.

11:15am – we arrived.  I must say, if you’re going to CiCi’s on a Sunday after church, it’s good to get there early if you can.  We were the first patrons there, and it was a very different, wonderfully pleasant, experience than what I’ve had there before.  The floors and tables were all shiny and clean.  The food, all fresh and hot.  As a matter of fact, upon entrance, we were asked if we wanted any particular types of pizzas, because they would be happy to prepare them for us.  Customer service at it’s best!  We ate like royalty, selecting from a number of pizzas that seemed to be cooked “just for us”.  It was quiet.  It was peaceful.  Words I’ve never before used to describe this restaurant.  It had been years since I had last been there to eat, but I must confess now, I look forward to going back with the whole family one Sunday after church.

As we were finishing up, a homeless man walked in.  Well, I assumed he was homeless.  It didn’t take me a split second to judge him based on his clothing and the items he carried with him.  There I was judging – something I specifically prayed about an hour earlier.  I need to quit that. He wore a long-sleeved green shirt (it was 78 degrees outside!), a ragged straw hat, and carried a sleeping bag, several jackets, and a guitar with him.  I watched closely as he placed his things at a table diagonally across from us.  He seemed tired.  I looked at his face, searching for some sign of something opposite from what I was assuming him to be.  I didn’t see anything.  No smile.  His eyes were covered by the brim of his hat.  When he walked past me to get a plate of food, I was encouraged:

          Go talk to him.

What?  I know you don’t want me to talk to this man!

          Go talk to him. 

Father!  How can I go talk to him?  You know that’s not something I’m comfortable doing.

I continued to sit at my table, as my son voraciously plowed through his dessert rolls and brownies.  He was clueless as to the battle I was having.  I wondered, “Could that be the Holy Spirit nudging me?”.

          Go talk to him.

What would I say?  Father, how could I be a blessing to this man?  Look at him.  He’s wearing
his shirt inside out.  How do I know if he even speaks english?  What if he’s not a Christian?
How can I just go talk to him?

Another 5 minutes went by, with me trying to convince myself that I should not go talk to this man who clearly the Holy Spirit wanted me to engage with.

          Go talk to him.

Look, he doesn’t want any company.  See how he keeps his hat on, pulled down over his
forehead?  How do I know he’s not a serial killer?  I’m here with my young son, why should I
put us in potential jeopardy by talking to this stranger?  He is strange, Lord.  I mean, look
at him!  He’s not even taking his hat off at the table.  That’s so disrespectful.

At that very moment, the man removed his hat, and held it down in front of his face as he blessed the meal before him.

It was undeniable now – I was definitely being told to go to this man, and it was not an option for me not to do just that.  My Heavenly Father gave me a directive, and shot down my excuses when he allowed me to witness this.  LOUD AND CLEAR, I was given the command again.

          Go talk to him.

Okay, Father, I will.  But help me here.  What in the world can I do to be a blessing to this
man?  He’s already paid for his meal, because you do that when you come in, so I can’t buy his
food.  You know, Father, that I don’t have any cash to give him.  I just spent that last 13 dollars
in cash I have, plus the 5 cents I dug out of the bottom of my purse.  What am I supposed to do?

As I waited for directions, I watched as the man very carefully cut into his salad.  Was he as solemn as he appeared now, or was he lonely?  What was his story?  Why was he homeless?

You haven’t answered me, Father.  Oh, I got a pack of flower seeds today at church, and was
told to share them with someone and invite them to church.  You know, planting seeds.  Do
you want me to invite him to church?  Father, that seems silly.  Why would I give a homeless
man a pack of flower seeds?

No answer came.  No directives.  No clear instructions were offered on what I was to do or say to this man.  Nothing.  My son was enjoying far too much root beer.  We were beyond finished with our dinner.  It was time for me to obey, or time for us to leave.

Okay, Lord, I’m going.  I’m going.  I don’t know how I can bless this man, but I’m trusting you
to help me.

I told my son to stay at the table and that I would be right back.

Me:  Sir, do you mind if I join you for a minute?

The man:  No, no, just move my things over there and have a seat.

As the man looked up at me, I instantly saw his cleanliness.  His eyes, sparkly and blue, conveyed a warmth that I hadn’t seen beneath the brim of his hat earlier.  This man whom I had thought of as unkempt and dirty, now looked refreshed, well-groomed, and so kind.

Me:  I saw you when you came in, and I just wanted to tell you what a blessing seeing you has
been to me.  You are an apparent traveler, and you have a guitar.  I have a son who is a
traveler, and he carries his guitar, too.

The man:  (as he touched my hand) Praise the Lord!

As it turns out, Joe is indeed a traveler, but he is not homeless.  He left his home back in California in January of this year.  Joe is on a journey.  One he says has taken him years to begin.  Joe is 68 years old, and in obedience, is walking from “sea to shining sea”.  Yep!  He’s walking from California to our side of the country, and up the coast.  In doing so, he’s relying on God to direct his paths to people he can share the love of Christ with.

Joe and I only talked for a few minutes, but during that time, we shared as brother and sister, we prayed a prayer of thanksgiving, and encouraged each other to continue in our walks for Christ, no matter how difficult it may be at times.  And we delighted in the joy that comes from obedience.  My youngest son didn’t do as I had asked, and after seeing me engaging in conversation with Joe, came over to introduce himself.  It was a real gift to be able to share this experience with my son.

I prayed this morning for my Heavenly Father to cleanse me, to forgive me, to help where I am weak and to lead me in how to be obedient to His will for my life.

Praise God, My Father heard me, and he answered me!

All this time I didn’t understand how I could bless this “homeless man”…and as it turned out, Joe was to be a blessing for me.  I’m so happy I was obedient today, because when we are obedient, we don’t miss the blessings God has planned for us.  And, oh boy, does He have blessings lined up for us all!

2 Thessalonians 2:13

14 Mar

Star Wars and An Answered Prayer

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , .

Last Monday morning, after the kids had been dropped off at school, I turned the radio off and enjoyed a quiet “conversation” with my Savior.  We do that a lot – “talk” in the car.  After praises and prayers, I turned the radio back on and cranked it up loud, enjoying “The Voice of Truth”, by Casting Crowns.  During an instrumental part, a thought came to me as quick as lightening.

I’m going to start keeping a prayer journal.

As quickly as I thought that, I was interrupted by a negative.

That’s dumb, I can’t possibly write down everything I need to pray about – there’s so much I pray about throughout a day!  I might forget to write down something important!

If there’s one big thing that I have to work on, it’s definitely the self-doubt.  I doubt everything, at some point, and I do not like that.  Not. One. Bit.

The welcomed distraction of the lyrics came flowing back to focus and I didn’t think about the journal idea again…until…

At home that evening, as I was working in the kitchen and our youngest son was at the table studying for his spelling test, he said to me out of the blue, “Mom, you know that new Moleskine dad gave me this week?  I made it into a prayer journal.”

———— Wait for it.

——————-Wait for it.

————————–Wait for it.

Did you get that? !  Did you catch how our Heavenly Father smiled at me through the face of my precious little boy at that very minute?!

In an instant, I knew that my Savior was confirming His presence with me earlier that morning and showing me that I don’t have to think twice about that silly self-doubt.  He liked my idea!

So I did the same thing – I told my son what a neat idea that was and how happy I know God is over his choosing to use his new Star Wars Moleskine that way.

8 Mar

The Throw Up Bug

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

Don’t know about your neck of the woods, but over here in ours, the stomach virus (aka “Throw Up Bug”) has arrived and wants everyone to know it.  It’s here.  And it’s not pretty.

That little pest is finished with our youngest son, but now our middle son is struggling to get rid of it.   That’s how this usually proceeds through our family. It starts with the youngest, and ends with the oldest.  I guess I could base that on size, instead of age, since the two are proportionate in our family.  I remember one time when that bug was trying to leave our house after we all had a turn being sick, the dog showed us she could catch it.  The dog!  That was not pretty, either.

Between the two of us last night, neither the middle son nor myself got much sleep.  His trips to the bathroom could be counted by the sound of the toilet seat lid smacking the back of the porcelain tank.  Like contractions, shortly after every crack of that toilet seat, I knew there would follow a good 20 minutes of peace.  5:30am this morning was at the beginning of one of those stretches.  I opened my computer and began the emails to alert the school, work, and church of the middle son’s illness, since he and I would both be absent from our obligations for the day.  I noticed that our oldest son, who is in another country right now, was online.  I sent him a brief note, through instant messaging, asking him to pray for his brother as he battles the bug.

After I hit the send button, I smiled to myself quickly, thinking, “Oh, you lucky boy!  You are not in our house right now to take your turn with the bug.”

Our oldest replied:

“When I was writing in my journal earlier, I had a stomach pain.  It came and left quickly, but I felt that I needed to pray for someone who was having pain.”

Wow.  Still connected, across the seas.

Then he asked me to put my hands on his brother and pray over him for healing.

Hmmm.  I have spent the last 3 days Lysoling anything that doesn’t move and bleaching towels.  I have cleaned up mess.  I have Clorox-wiped every solid surface over and over again.  But I had not done this.  I had not put my hands on my children in prayer.  They were full of germs!  I thought about wiping them down with a disinfectant sponge, but that thought left quickly, since I figured the chemicals would probably not be good for their skin (you can laugh, I wouldn’t really have done that!).

Four minutes later, I replied to our oldest son with this message:

“Done!”

In the remaining 12 minutes of peace, I thought about Jesus and how he laid his hands on hundreds of people, healing them.  My heart was convicted, because here I had been “not touching” my children, who are of my own flesh and blood, because I was a little germ-scared.  Believe me, my hands and fingers are wrinkled, as if I have been in a swimming pool for hours, from the amount of cleaning solvents I’ve been using.  No germ is going to want me if it has to touch my hands first.  I was convicted because I knew that outside of my protective hedge, I would not think of laying my hands on the filthy.  The unclean.  Yet, this is what I should be willing to do, because my Saviour has done so for me.

Wow, indeed.

At 1:15 pm today, in the midst of a peaceful slumber, it appears that the bug is finished with family member number two.  Will it leave our house, or will it find me, I wonder.  I take a few minutes to sit down and read a little in a bible study book.  The passage before me reads:

“Is anyone among you sick?  Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord.  And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.”     ~James 5: 14-15

Father, thank you for showing me where I am weak, and for my convicted heart.  I long to reflect the love of your son, Jesus Christ, in my everyday, and every way, whether it’s within the confines of my home, or outside of my comfort zone.  When I am weak, Father, you are strong,  I am confident that you are the strength I need to overcome my weaknesses.  I thank you for your love, and for your faithfulness, and for all the times you reach down and touch me when I am filthy, unclean, and unworthy.  

1 Mar

The Flag

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , .

As I passed the Post Office early this morning, I noticed three Federal employees standing out by the flag pole.  The American flag at the top of the pole whipped back and forth in the wind, against the promise of a beautiful, new day.

Then I noticed something.  Something that gave way to sadness.

One of the employees had, crumpled up in his arms, a flag.  It looked to be an older one, but I couldn’t be sure.  Regardless, Old Glory was in a heap, parts of her spilling over his forearm as he shifted his weight from one leg to the next.  The three men stood there for a bit, smiling and carrying on conversation.

Then the light ahead of me turned green. As I accelerated slowly toward work, I carried a bit of that sadness with me.

29 Feb

My Father’s Words…

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , .

My Father’s words came quickly.
Unexpectedly.
Sharply.

Weeks earlier, the woman I care most about in this world, my momma, became angry at me.  The reason is not important.  But in her anger, she said some things that were intended to hurt me, or cause a reaction.  Her final words to me were “do not call me”, as she headed out the door.

So you know what I did?

I didn’t call her.  In my head, I was convinced that I was doing what she asked.  I had her grandsons call to check on her.  I sent her instant messages though Skype every now and then.  But I did not ring her up on the phone.  Why not?  Because she told me not to.

Yes, my Father’s words came quickly.
Unexpectedly.
Sharply.

He said, “When did you ever listen to your mother before?”

Nail on the head.  Convicted.  I am guilty.

I recalled my teenage years, when I was rebellious.  I recalled decisions I made that were in direct opposition to her wishes when I was younger.  I recalled recent comments my momma made regarding…well…anything from recipe suggestions to furniture arrangement in our den, and from taking my kids out on “date night” to feeding the pets.

Why had I chosen to “obey” this one little thing my mother said to me in anger?

Because in doing so, I didn’t have to face the hurtful things she said, or own up to my part in what made her angry in the first place.  It was easier to forget about any of that and just “not call her”, because that was her final demand.

I’m so thankful for my Heavenly Father who grants me mercy and forgiveness.  His question to me was spot on and required that I really examine the fruits (or lack of them) that were resulting from the distance between my mom and I.  Just as God forgives me on a continual basis, I am supposed to do the same thing.  Thank goodness, God doesn’t take days and weeks to forgive me.

Father, I want to reflect you in all that I do, even when and especially when faced with things that cause hurt and anger.  Just as you love me, in spite of myself, Father, help me show that same love to others.  I want them to see You in all that I do.

27 Feb

Standing Still in The Word

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , , .

I experienced one of those “kaleidescope-moments” while I was in the word this week.  Kaleidescope.   The definition I’m using here – a continually changing pattern of shapes, scenes and colors.  Have you ever felt that way before?  Like the whole world around you is just flashing from one thing to the next while you are caught up in a single thought or revelation, not caring about the things around you that are vying for your attention?

The world is that way.  It fights for our attention.  It is aggressive sometimes.  It’s hungry to occupy our thoughts and monopolize our focus. Sometimes I feel like the world and The Word are such polar opposite things.  The world is demanding.  The Word is patient.  The world is ephemeral.  The Word is ethereal.  The world is unreliable.  The Word is trustworthy…true…truth.

To best explain how The Word stopped the world for me in that moment, join me in the scripture – John chapter 11.  This is the chapter in which Jesus brings Lazarus back from the dead.  We were discussing this in Sunday School, noting how this is often considered the lead event that started the whole domino effect of events leading up to the crucification of Christ.  Imagine, being there when Jesus called for him to rise, “Lazarus, come out!”  Imagine!  What were the people who were gathered there saying?  What were Lazarus’s first words?  Were people scared?  Did anyone faint?  How many people accepted faith in Christ at the first hand witness of that miracle?  So, so many questions.  Now you’re with me.  We’re at an awesome place where Jesus has done something he had not done before.  Sure, he has brought people back to life again, but not after four days.  FOUR DAYS!  Don’t you believe Jesus can do anything?  I do, too.  Which is why I’m so excited to be studying this chapter.  It’s not just a story – it’s real.  This really happened.

And here it is.  Begin reading in verse 45.  Many Jews went out to see Mary, thinking she was going to the tomb to mourn.  They saw what Jesus did.  Many came to faith.  Some went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus did.  Well, it wasn’t long before the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting.  They were not happy that many were accepting faith in Jesus….so….they said:

John 11:48

“If we let him go on like this, everyone will have belief in him…..”

SCREECHING

HALT

The world stands still.  All is silent, as the past events catch up with  current life and our immediate world.  Imagine.  Imagine! Imagine a world in which everyone had belief in Jesus Christ.  The days of the Pharisees catches up with the current events of today’s persecuted church.  Jesus was persecuted back then, and today, persecution continues.  The Pharisees and chief priests were afraid of people having faith in Jesus.  “If we let him go on like this, everyone will have belief in him…”  That just blows my mind, because this very same thing is happening today.  I’m thinking of Pastor Youcef, and the Iranian government that has imprisoned him because of his belief in Jesus Christ and has been threatening to end his life since 2009 if he fails to recant his faith.  Pastor Youcef is not denying Christ.  Through isolation.  Through torture.  Through temptations.  Through things I could never even imagine, Pastor Youcef remains faithful and steadfast for our Savior.  The Pharisees were afraid.  They had fear.  They were selfish and didn’t want to loose power or prestige.  What are the people who are threatening Pastor Youcef afraid of?  Could it be the same things?

Jesus tells us in John 15: 18-21:

“If the world hates you, you know that it hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own. Yet because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you… If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you… because they do not know Him who sent Me.”

Absolute stillness.  The Word is truth, and the truth has connected with me in a  very real way.

Praise God for the blessing of your son, Jesus, and for the gift of scripture to help teach us, direct us, and remind us of the path that was planned for us before we ever were.  Thank you, Father, for the blessing also of living in a place that allows for freedom in worshiping you, and studying your Word.  There are so many, Lord – too many – who do not have the same freedoms, yet, they risk everything, including their lives, for a glimpse into your Word and in sharing your light with others.  Father, I lift up my persecuted brothers and sisters and pray for their protection, for your peace to continue to be evident to them, and for more than anything, Father, your will to be done through their lives, as it is to be done through ours…through mine.  All this I offer and ask in your son’s precious, sweet name.  Amen.

I’d really like to hear about a time when The Word stopped you in your tracks and gave you a “kaleidoscope-moment”.

21 Feb

Day 172

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

“How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?”

I still don’t know the answer to that question.

I do know, however, the answer to a different question.

It takes Songbird3 exactly 172 days to feel indeterminate poignancy over the absence of her oldest son.

Man, sure is easier to type that as third person than it is to experience it as first.

You know, I noticed this whatever it is coming over me a couple of days ago, but it wasn’t until today that I was able to acknowledge the angst I’ve been having over this.  Everyone (including me!)  has been so surprised and encouraged by how seemingly easy this family vacancy has been in our household.  I’ve been given the blessing of such enormous joy throughout these last few months.  I still have joy, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve let a little bit of that empty place at our dinner table create a void in my today.  I miss him.

Yeah, I just miss him.

14 Jan

“Give it to Me.”

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , , .

It’s a new year.  Many conversations and comments are based right now on “resolutions”, “things we are going to change”, “new ways we are going to live”.  Just as yesterday was Friday the 13th and I could have cared less for the folklore surrounding such a number, I give as little weight to the idea of New Year’s Resolutions.  Changes should be made for personal reasons, not necessarily on the universal date of the clean slate.  I mean, if we’re vowing to make a positive change, for whatever reason, shouldn’t it be heart-induced, and not calendar-induced?

So you didn’t see a “New Years Resolution” post from me, and please don’t confuse this with one.  After all, we’re well on our way in 2012 with it being the 14th, and not the 1st.  😉  Without further ado, I would like to introduce my January 14th CFM (change-for-me).  Yeah, that sounds selfish, but I author it with the best intentions of changing for Him.  I mean, it is “me” that I long to change so that I can be more like Him.  CFM stays.

—drumroll, please—

I, a daughter of Christ, am going to give it to Him.  

Doesn’t that sound easy?  

I know a few who do this without notice…and I long to be this person.  I have given it to Him before, but it’s always been so hard to let my grip go.  I like to hold on to things.  I think I’ve even prided myself in ownership over some things for a long time before letting Him have them.  I worry.  I stress. I neatly hide things that I should give to Him.  Like a mother hen, sometimes I hold onto things, hoping they will hatch into something better, more manageable for my hands (they never do).  

Yesterday, I held onto something that was causing me enormous guilt.  It was interfering with my work.  It was monopolizing my thoughts.  It was even causing me to doubt what I was sure was a very righteous action.  “Mine, mine mine!”  Oh, how I like to hold onto things.  I certainly wasn’t thinking of sharing this, and definitely had not considered giving it away, until I went to the Ladies’ room.  That’s right, the bathroom.  I needed a break.  A breather.  I needed a private area to deal with this new thing I was carrying.  I did not go into there to pray, although I should have.  I did not go in there with the intention of leaving this thing behind.  I did not think of Him, at all.  I did not remember how much He would like to have this thing.  I did not look toward Him.  

Hallelujah, He reached out to me!

With a heavy heart and a mind trying to make since of this new, worrisome thing I had acquired, I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes.  That’s when I noticed Him.  His words reached out to me softly and reminded me He was there.  “Give it to me.”  It was not a demand.  It was not pushy.  It was not stated in disapproval.  These words came to me in love, a gift, freely offered.  He had the solution!  He always has the solution!  It was only upon “hearing” these words that I was able to let go of the thing that was causing me so much grief, and I did so readily.  It WAS easy, and the peace that replaced the area this thing had been occupying was immediate.  I’ve given things to him before, so  why do I continue to struggle with this?  Why do I try to make things my own?  

Thank you, Jesus, for reaching out to me and tapping me on the shoulder to remind me of your constant presence with me, of your continual desire to guide me, help me and lift me up when I can’t seem to stand by myself.   Thank you for emptying me of the things that cause worry, and filling me with your peace.

My It’s-Not-A-New Year’s-Resolution is to Give it to Him! 

9 Jan

Outside of the Box

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

The last verse in the book of John in the New Testament reads:

And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.  Amen.

                                                                                                John 21:25 (NKJV)

What an awesome thing!  

I’m camping out here for a while, outside of the box that I have tried to put God’s word in.  It’s my human nature to want to put everything neat and tidy in a box.  I like to categorize things.  I like to see collections neatly organized and completed.  I’ve never really thought about the box I have created for God’s word, until I learned of that verse last night.  God’s word is not intended to be neat and orderly and put away in a box.  It’s too big, too complex, and ever growing in meaning to my life.  It’s alive!  Things that are alive can never be bound by the physical parameters of a receptacle of any kind.  His word is in the box, hanging outside of the box, bouncing up and down around the box……I imagine sometimes his word turns the box upside down, even!  

Praise God for showing me how boundless his word is!

 

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