Sometimes my mind thinks back to mistakes I’ve made in the past. I can relive those episodes as clearly as though they were happening right then. The pain and shame of those misjudgments weighs heavily on me. I know that if God dealt with me as I deserved from those actions, I would spend all eternity far away from His Presence.
Click here for the rest of the devotion.
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Best Laid Plans (Number 18 in a series)
“But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.” Luke 10: 33-35 (KJV)
When I arrived in California to help care for my mother, I envisioned hours spent in writing as I sat near her, ready to meet any need she may have. My sister had reported that Mama did little more than sleep between her feedings (through a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy - or PEG - tube).
Reality is somewhat different than my imaginings. Mama only sleeps intermittently (even at night!). She talks in her sleep, often crying out as though in distress or pain. She requires help ambulating to and from her bedside commode chair. Sometimes we can convince her to walk a little more, into the living room or perhaps into her bathroom for a quick “spit bath” in the sink.
Occasionally, Mama develops pain in her legs or feet. We use lavender oil or a chamomile based cream to massage the ailing part. Sometimes she just craves the human touch of someone holding her hand.
She imagines strange people in the room, requiring me to order them out or check on what they are doing. There are “accidents” requiring her bed to be changed, sometimes numerous times a day. The resultant loads of laundry must be washed, dried, folded and put away.
Another problem is the blockage in her esophagus, the reason the PEG tube was installed. The tube takes care of getting her nutrition, but it cannot help her feeling of needing to burp. So we have any number of antics to try to dislodge reluctant air bubbles. We try walking, getting up and down, patting her on the back and anything else we can think of to try to clear the bubble.
These interruptions can come at any moment. My concentration gets broken; whatever I’m working on gets set aside. Most of the writing I planned to get done is still waiting for me.
I wonder if the Samaritan had plans that day, on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho? Whatever they were, he put them aside to care for the man who had fallen among thieves. In putting his own plans on hold, he kept the appointment God had for him. The compassion he demonstrated has come to mean someone who cares above and beyond expectations – the Good Samaritan. Each time my plans get rearranged, I try to remember the Good Samaritan and open my heart to God’s plans.
Father, thank you for having the Master Plan. Please forgive me those times when I consider my own plans to be the most important things in the world. Help me to look to You for the right “next step” and not my own thoughts.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
When I arrived in California to help care for my mother, I envisioned hours spent in writing as I sat near her, ready to meet any need she may have. My sister had reported that Mama did little more than sleep between her feedings (through a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy - or PEG - tube).
Reality is somewhat different than my imaginings. Mama only sleeps intermittently (even at night!). She talks in her sleep, often crying out as though in distress or pain. She requires help ambulating to and from her bedside commode chair. Sometimes we can convince her to walk a little more, into the living room or perhaps into her bathroom for a quick “spit bath” in the sink.
Occasionally, Mama develops pain in her legs or feet. We use lavender oil or a chamomile based cream to massage the ailing part. Sometimes she just craves the human touch of someone holding her hand.
She imagines strange people in the room, requiring me to order them out or check on what they are doing. There are “accidents” requiring her bed to be changed, sometimes numerous times a day. The resultant loads of laundry must be washed, dried, folded and put away.
Another problem is the blockage in her esophagus, the reason the PEG tube was installed. The tube takes care of getting her nutrition, but it cannot help her feeling of needing to burp. So we have any number of antics to try to dislodge reluctant air bubbles. We try walking, getting up and down, patting her on the back and anything else we can think of to try to clear the bubble.
These interruptions can come at any moment. My concentration gets broken; whatever I’m working on gets set aside. Most of the writing I planned to get done is still waiting for me.
I wonder if the Samaritan had plans that day, on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho? Whatever they were, he put them aside to care for the man who had fallen among thieves. In putting his own plans on hold, he kept the appointment God had for him. The compassion he demonstrated has come to mean someone who cares above and beyond expectations – the Good Samaritan. Each time my plans get rearranged, I try to remember the Good Samaritan and open my heart to God’s plans.
Father, thank you for having the Master Plan. Please forgive me those times when I consider my own plans to be the most important things in the world. Help me to look to You for the right “next step” and not my own thoughts.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Saturday, January 3, 2009
The Escape Artist (Number 17 in a series)
“The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.” II Peter 3:9 (KJV)
My mother has become something of an escape artist, in spite of our best efforts. She has fallen several times while trying to get out of bed during the night. My sister and I have tried any number of ways to keep her safe.
We have resorted to a baby monitor in her room so that she can call for assistance if she needs to get up during the night. We got a hospital bed with side rails to try to keep her from getting up and wandering around without someone to help her stay upright.
She evades the monitor by not saying anything as she sneaks out of the bed. She takes advantage of the foot-long gap between the end of the rail and the foot of the bed to slither, snakelike, out into the room. On occasion, she tries to slip out under the rail, resulting in being caught like a fox in a trap – unable to get out or go back into the bed.
Some mornings, I come into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as though she were sitting at a desk. One morning, I found her on her knees, with her shoulders wedged between the rail and the frame. And some heart-stopping mornings I find her on the floor. She has made good her escape from the bed, only to find her strength spent.
God has blessed us. Mama seems to sink to the floor, rather than fall, on most occasions. She has suffered no broken bones, only some minor abrasions and bruising. But we fear the time of a solid fall or a piece of furniture in the way. So we continue trying to protect her and she continues trying to escape.
I can’t help but be reminded of God and His love for us. We keep trying to escape His love. He keeps opening His arms to bring us back to His protection. We have His promise to keep making the offer of eternal life to us, because He is faithful and unwilling to let any of us go to eternal death.
Mama has the underlying cause of dementia to spur her attempts to “escape;” what reason can any of us use to justify trying to escape God? Yet we do, more often than we would probably admit. Each time we do what we find expedient rather than what He has told us is right, we are trying to escape.
Father, please forgive me when I fight Your will and try to do things my own way. Remind me of Your constant love and care. Help me to rest in the knowledge of Your goodness. And thank you so much for watching over Mama!
© 2009 Mary Beth Magee
My mother has become something of an escape artist, in spite of our best efforts. She has fallen several times while trying to get out of bed during the night. My sister and I have tried any number of ways to keep her safe.
We have resorted to a baby monitor in her room so that she can call for assistance if she needs to get up during the night. We got a hospital bed with side rails to try to keep her from getting up and wandering around without someone to help her stay upright.
She evades the monitor by not saying anything as she sneaks out of the bed. She takes advantage of the foot-long gap between the end of the rail and the foot of the bed to slither, snakelike, out into the room. On occasion, she tries to slip out under the rail, resulting in being caught like a fox in a trap – unable to get out or go back into the bed.
Some mornings, I come into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as though she were sitting at a desk. One morning, I found her on her knees, with her shoulders wedged between the rail and the frame. And some heart-stopping mornings I find her on the floor. She has made good her escape from the bed, only to find her strength spent.
God has blessed us. Mama seems to sink to the floor, rather than fall, on most occasions. She has suffered no broken bones, only some minor abrasions and bruising. But we fear the time of a solid fall or a piece of furniture in the way. So we continue trying to protect her and she continues trying to escape.
I can’t help but be reminded of God and His love for us. We keep trying to escape His love. He keeps opening His arms to bring us back to His protection. We have His promise to keep making the offer of eternal life to us, because He is faithful and unwilling to let any of us go to eternal death.
Mama has the underlying cause of dementia to spur her attempts to “escape;” what reason can any of us use to justify trying to escape God? Yet we do, more often than we would probably admit. Each time we do what we find expedient rather than what He has told us is right, we are trying to escape.
Father, please forgive me when I fight Your will and try to do things my own way. Remind me of Your constant love and care. Help me to rest in the knowledge of Your goodness. And thank you so much for watching over Mama!
© 2009 Mary Beth Magee
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Is It Your Best? (Number 16 in a series)
“Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given us…” Romans 12:6 (KJV)
As I wound my way into town, a Christmas CD played in the car – an instrumental version of “The Little Drummer Boy.” I sang along with the melody, and a mental image of the little boy popped into my head. A child, wanting so desperately to give a gift to the Child yet fearing he had nothing good enough to offer.
I thought about his dilemma and his creative solution. All he had was a musical gift, to play the drum. The gift he gave was to play the best he could. And he earned a smile from the Christ Child.
The traditional story got me to thinking: do I give my best, or do I settle for less? Any gift I give shouldn’t just be Good. It should be the Best I can do. There is no job too large or small, no offering too unimportant to undeserving of the best I can do. My best effort, my best heart, my best attention to detail.
When I was growing up in Grace Baptist Church in New Orleans, I belonged to the Girls’ Auxiliary. One of the songs we sang, practically an anthem for us, was entitled “Give of Your Best to the Master.” If I close my eyes for a moment, I can still hear those young voices enjoining each other to do our best for Jesus, just as the drummer boy did.
Each of us has strengths and weaknesses, and there are some things in which we excel while other tasks may seem heartbreakingly difficult. Jesus does not demand that we do everything perfectly, but asks us to use the gifts He has given us to do our best at whatever we undertake.
It’s a lesson to remember, not only at Christmas, but all year round!
Dear Jesus, You are God’s Best and He sent you for me. Help me to remember always to give You my best in return.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
As I wound my way into town, a Christmas CD played in the car – an instrumental version of “The Little Drummer Boy.” I sang along with the melody, and a mental image of the little boy popped into my head. A child, wanting so desperately to give a gift to the Child yet fearing he had nothing good enough to offer.
I thought about his dilemma and his creative solution. All he had was a musical gift, to play the drum. The gift he gave was to play the best he could. And he earned a smile from the Christ Child.
The traditional story got me to thinking: do I give my best, or do I settle for less? Any gift I give shouldn’t just be Good. It should be the Best I can do. There is no job too large or small, no offering too unimportant to undeserving of the best I can do. My best effort, my best heart, my best attention to detail.
When I was growing up in Grace Baptist Church in New Orleans, I belonged to the Girls’ Auxiliary. One of the songs we sang, practically an anthem for us, was entitled “Give of Your Best to the Master.” If I close my eyes for a moment, I can still hear those young voices enjoining each other to do our best for Jesus, just as the drummer boy did.
Each of us has strengths and weaknesses, and there are some things in which we excel while other tasks may seem heartbreakingly difficult. Jesus does not demand that we do everything perfectly, but asks us to use the gifts He has given us to do our best at whatever we undertake.
It’s a lesson to remember, not only at Christmas, but all year round!
Dear Jesus, You are God’s Best and He sent you for me. Help me to remember always to give You my best in return.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Sunday, December 21, 2008
He Knows My Name (Number 15 in a series)
“…the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice.” John 10: 3b-4 (KJV)
Awake or asleep, Mama calls. If I’m not in the room with her, I hear her on the monitor calling out. Not my name, always. Right now she thinks I’m my late Aunt Louise.
Other times, she calls me Dolores, Katie or Lena, Mutzie or Carrie (other aunts). Occasionally she calls me “Mama.” Sometimes, it’s a name I don’t recognize as family, such as Erma. And sometimes, she calls me by my own name and is quite proud of remembering who I am.
Whatever name she uses, I respond. Occasionally I will tease her with “Louise isn’t here. Will I do?” The main thing is her voice is calling out. My mother. I recognize her voice and that’s what gets me moving toward her in response
When I reread Jesus’ parable of the sheep, I understood afresh the importance of recognizing the voice doing the calling. I wouldn’t respond so quickly to just any voice in the night. And I am so grateful to know that even though Mama doesn’t always call me by the right name, He always knows who I am. I am His and He will lead me through whatever is to come.
Do you know the Good Shepherd? He knows you, and would love to count you in His flock. Call on the name of Jesus – He already knows your name!
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to know my name and call me your own. Please give me wisdom to always recognize your voice.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Awake or asleep, Mama calls. If I’m not in the room with her, I hear her on the monitor calling out. Not my name, always. Right now she thinks I’m my late Aunt Louise.
Other times, she calls me Dolores, Katie or Lena, Mutzie or Carrie (other aunts). Occasionally she calls me “Mama.” Sometimes, it’s a name I don’t recognize as family, such as Erma. And sometimes, she calls me by my own name and is quite proud of remembering who I am.
Whatever name she uses, I respond. Occasionally I will tease her with “Louise isn’t here. Will I do?” The main thing is her voice is calling out. My mother. I recognize her voice and that’s what gets me moving toward her in response
When I reread Jesus’ parable of the sheep, I understood afresh the importance of recognizing the voice doing the calling. I wouldn’t respond so quickly to just any voice in the night. And I am so grateful to know that even though Mama doesn’t always call me by the right name, He always knows who I am. I am His and He will lead me through whatever is to come.
Do you know the Good Shepherd? He knows you, and would love to count you in His flock. Call on the name of Jesus – He already knows your name!
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to know my name and call me your own. Please give me wisdom to always recognize your voice.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Glory of His Handiwork (Number 11 in a series)
“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.” Psalm 19:1 (KJV)
When I made the decision to move to California, I thought I’d miss the glorious autumns I’d experienced in the Midwest. Streets lined with blazing golden trees, a horizon painted a spectacular palette of reds and oranges, burgundies and plums – these were the joys I had experienced in Illinois falls.
What a wonderful surprise to find colors every bit as grand and varied here in northern California. I look out across the hills and see a rich patchwork of autumn hues laid against a velvety background of evergreens. Some days, there is a gauzy overlay of mist softening the riotous colors. Other days, they blaze in full splendor.
How shortsighted I was to think God would not display His artistry here! In a world He created, there cannot be a place where He does not allow His creation to draw hearts toward Him through its beauty. Sometimes the beauty is delicate as a butterfly’s wing; other times it is the savage beauty of a glacier. Always, the creation points to the Creator.
Look around you today. Do you find large markers of His glory, glowing like constellations in the sky? Or is it small things that remind you of His creation? Take time to enjoy the signs and to let them point you toward Him -- the Master Artist.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
When I made the decision to move to California, I thought I’d miss the glorious autumns I’d experienced in the Midwest. Streets lined with blazing golden trees, a horizon painted a spectacular palette of reds and oranges, burgundies and plums – these were the joys I had experienced in Illinois falls.
What a wonderful surprise to find colors every bit as grand and varied here in northern California. I look out across the hills and see a rich patchwork of autumn hues laid against a velvety background of evergreens. Some days, there is a gauzy overlay of mist softening the riotous colors. Other days, they blaze in full splendor.
How shortsighted I was to think God would not display His artistry here! In a world He created, there cannot be a place where He does not allow His creation to draw hearts toward Him through its beauty. Sometimes the beauty is delicate as a butterfly’s wing; other times it is the savage beauty of a glacier. Always, the creation points to the Creator.
Look around you today. Do you find large markers of His glory, glowing like constellations in the sky? Or is it small things that remind you of His creation? Take time to enjoy the signs and to let them point you toward Him -- the Master Artist.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Soaring with the Birds (Number 9 in a series)
“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?” Matthew 6:25-26 (KJV)
For the first time in my adult life, I find myself out of work by a choice other than my own. Being laid off (downsized, terminated –whatever label you use) is a humbling experience. I’ve always taken pride in doing my job well and seeing my employment as a ministry to be performed in Jesus’ name. This time, that wasn’t enough – a corporate decision to cut costs resulted in a dramatic reshuffling of staff.
At my age (late fifties), the prospect of job hunting is a little scary. To be up against all the youngsters out there is intimidating. To think I’ll probably have to interview with one of those youngsters is almost overwhelming.
Yet this “catastrophe” is not without its upside. Being relieved of my job set me free to follow my heart to California, where one of my sisters is caring for our mother. I might have let my feelings of loyalty to my employer delay me. Now that I’m here and see my mother’s condition, I know how wrong that decision would have been.
So here I am, filling in job applications when I’m not caring for my mother, and hoping there is someone out there who will look beyond the age and into the heart of this applicant. I’m managing to stay pretty upbeat about the whole situation. Through all of this, I have felt assured of God’s care and guidance. Like the birds of the air, He provides for me each day. An unexpected refund on a cancelled service, a reimbursement for an expense I had forgotten, an opportunity to do a small task for a fee – all these and more ways He uses to supply my needs. I have what I need today, and I’m trusting Him for tomorrow.
Somewhere, He has an appropriate position for me. I know I’ll find it in His time. Meanwhile, I am taking advantage of the time I have with Mama and resting in the knowledge that I’m more precious to Him than the birds He provides for so abundantly. God is so good!
When times seem difficult, remember His loving kindness. As the old song reminds us: “His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.” Don’t be discouraged or detoured by the world’s perspective. You matter to Him and He will keep you through adversity! Go to Him in prayer about your needs and rest on His supply.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
For the first time in my adult life, I find myself out of work by a choice other than my own. Being laid off (downsized, terminated –whatever label you use) is a humbling experience. I’ve always taken pride in doing my job well and seeing my employment as a ministry to be performed in Jesus’ name. This time, that wasn’t enough – a corporate decision to cut costs resulted in a dramatic reshuffling of staff.
At my age (late fifties), the prospect of job hunting is a little scary. To be up against all the youngsters out there is intimidating. To think I’ll probably have to interview with one of those youngsters is almost overwhelming.
Yet this “catastrophe” is not without its upside. Being relieved of my job set me free to follow my heart to California, where one of my sisters is caring for our mother. I might have let my feelings of loyalty to my employer delay me. Now that I’m here and see my mother’s condition, I know how wrong that decision would have been.
So here I am, filling in job applications when I’m not caring for my mother, and hoping there is someone out there who will look beyond the age and into the heart of this applicant. I’m managing to stay pretty upbeat about the whole situation. Through all of this, I have felt assured of God’s care and guidance. Like the birds of the air, He provides for me each day. An unexpected refund on a cancelled service, a reimbursement for an expense I had forgotten, an opportunity to do a small task for a fee – all these and more ways He uses to supply my needs. I have what I need today, and I’m trusting Him for tomorrow.
Somewhere, He has an appropriate position for me. I know I’ll find it in His time. Meanwhile, I am taking advantage of the time I have with Mama and resting in the knowledge that I’m more precious to Him than the birds He provides for so abundantly. God is so good!
When times seem difficult, remember His loving kindness. As the old song reminds us: “His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.” Don’t be discouraged or detoured by the world’s perspective. You matter to Him and He will keep you through adversity! Go to Him in prayer about your needs and rest on His supply.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Grace and Peace (Number 8 in a series)
“Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. We give thanks to God always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers; Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father; Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God.” I Thessalonians 1: 1-4 (KJV)
Now that I’ve arrived in California, I am able to assist with the care of my mother. She had declined dramatically in the five weeks since I had last seen her and now is little more than an invalid. I do what I can for her, calling on everything I learned when I worked in home health as a nurse’s aide and from my First Aid certification. Yet it seems so little.
She sleeps fitfully between her feedings, administered through a tube implanted in her stomach. At night, she awakens often, calling for help through the monitor we’ve set up in her room with a receiver in mine. Sometimes, it is me she calls. Often, it is God. She carries on a conversation with Him, asking for relief from the recurring leg cramps we don’t seem to be able to help.
In my own prayers, I ask for strength to be able to provide what she needs; patience to respond in love when she asks the same question for the umpteenth time; gentleness in my touch as I seek to minister to her; and comfort for her. All of those things sound terribly noble, don’t they?
Perhaps you won’t think so highly of my prayers when I tell you the rest. I very selfishly pray to have my mother back. Not this frail, suffering woman who tears my heart out with each moan, but the strong, hardworking mother I knew before this decline.
In my heart, I know she is probably quite close to going home. So each time I approach her bed, I tell her I love her and kiss her head because I don’t know how many more chances I’ll get. I know when she leaves, it won’t be forever. I’ll see her again one day in glory. But, oh, how I long to delay the parting!
Paul wasn’t specifically talking about my mother in his letter to the church at Thessalonica. Yet it describes her so well. She has worked her entire life in faith and love. What I know of living in grace and counting on God’s peace, I learned at her hand. And I do wish her grace and peace as she makes this final journey. I only hope I can live up to her example.
Is there someone who needs to hear how much you love them? How much they mean to you? Is there someone you love but aren’t sure of their spiritual situation? Don’t wait – tell them the things they need to hear before time has slipped away. Pray for the confidence and wisdom to do it today.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Now that I’ve arrived in California, I am able to assist with the care of my mother. She had declined dramatically in the five weeks since I had last seen her and now is little more than an invalid. I do what I can for her, calling on everything I learned when I worked in home health as a nurse’s aide and from my First Aid certification. Yet it seems so little.
She sleeps fitfully between her feedings, administered through a tube implanted in her stomach. At night, she awakens often, calling for help through the monitor we’ve set up in her room with a receiver in mine. Sometimes, it is me she calls. Often, it is God. She carries on a conversation with Him, asking for relief from the recurring leg cramps we don’t seem to be able to help.
In my own prayers, I ask for strength to be able to provide what she needs; patience to respond in love when she asks the same question for the umpteenth time; gentleness in my touch as I seek to minister to her; and comfort for her. All of those things sound terribly noble, don’t they?
Perhaps you won’t think so highly of my prayers when I tell you the rest. I very selfishly pray to have my mother back. Not this frail, suffering woman who tears my heart out with each moan, but the strong, hardworking mother I knew before this decline.
In my heart, I know she is probably quite close to going home. So each time I approach her bed, I tell her I love her and kiss her head because I don’t know how many more chances I’ll get. I know when she leaves, it won’t be forever. I’ll see her again one day in glory. But, oh, how I long to delay the parting!
Paul wasn’t specifically talking about my mother in his letter to the church at Thessalonica. Yet it describes her so well. She has worked her entire life in faith and love. What I know of living in grace and counting on God’s peace, I learned at her hand. And I do wish her grace and peace as she makes this final journey. I only hope I can live up to her example.
Is there someone who needs to hear how much you love them? How much they mean to you? Is there someone you love but aren’t sure of their spiritual situation? Don’t wait – tell them the things they need to hear before time has slipped away. Pray for the confidence and wisdom to do it today.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Dampened Spirits (Number 2 in a series)
“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” I Thessalonians 5: 16-18 (NIV)
For my first three days on the road, I was in rain, often coming down hard enough to obscure visibility. I fretted about the damage that might be done to the things I had on top of the car. I worried about missing a directional sign. I griped to God about the danger of driving in such weather and the time I would lose because of it.
Another problem soon became apparent: the nylon straps I had used to secure my “do-it-yourself” roof rack passed through the interior of the car and acted as wicks to bring the rain inside. The water followed the dictates of gravity and sought the lowest point. For one of the straps, that point was right over the front seat! Another crossed through the car in the back. Now I had to worry not only about my belongings on the roof, but also my dog, the things inside the car and myself. The whole world seemed to be perpetually damp. I prayed for the rain to stop.
Watching the news in my motel room on the second night, I heard the broadcaster report on the happiness of area farmers and ranchers over the much-needed rain. I felt instantly ashamed of myself. What I perceived to be a trial, someone else received as a huge blessing.
Isn’t that often the issue with us? The circumstances aren’t the problem so much as our reaction to those circumstances. Perhaps that’s why we have to be reminded to keep an “attitude of gratitude.” We are easily distracted from seeing God’s blessings as we get caught up in the cares of the world.
How often have you complained about something, only to find out later it was a blessing in disguise? In this Thanksgiving month, resolve to heed 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 and give thanks in everything.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
For my first three days on the road, I was in rain, often coming down hard enough to obscure visibility. I fretted about the damage that might be done to the things I had on top of the car. I worried about missing a directional sign. I griped to God about the danger of driving in such weather and the time I would lose because of it.
Another problem soon became apparent: the nylon straps I had used to secure my “do-it-yourself” roof rack passed through the interior of the car and acted as wicks to bring the rain inside. The water followed the dictates of gravity and sought the lowest point. For one of the straps, that point was right over the front seat! Another crossed through the car in the back. Now I had to worry not only about my belongings on the roof, but also my dog, the things inside the car and myself. The whole world seemed to be perpetually damp. I prayed for the rain to stop.
Watching the news in my motel room on the second night, I heard the broadcaster report on the happiness of area farmers and ranchers over the much-needed rain. I felt instantly ashamed of myself. What I perceived to be a trial, someone else received as a huge blessing.
Isn’t that often the issue with us? The circumstances aren’t the problem so much as our reaction to those circumstances. Perhaps that’s why we have to be reminded to keep an “attitude of gratitude.” We are easily distracted from seeing God’s blessings as we get caught up in the cares of the world.
How often have you complained about something, only to find out later it was a blessing in disguise? In this Thanksgiving month, resolve to heed 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 and give thanks in everything.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
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