January 2018

8 Seconds

werner22brigitte / Pixabay

Yesterday afternoon, Phil, the kids, and I attended the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. This year, we got to see the rodeo as well as tour the grounds, look at the animals, ride the rides, etc. My favorite event of this rodeo session was the bull riding.

The rider sits astride the bull’s back while the bull is still in the chute. He makes sure he has the rope wrapped just so around his hand. Then, he gives a single nod, and another cowboy pulls the gate open.

Out of that chute comes a wildly bucking bull. He wants that cowboy off his back, and he kicks, jumps, and twists as he attempts to fling the rider into the dust of the arena. Meanwhile, the cowboy rides with one hand gripping the rope for dear life, his other arm raised into the air, desperately trying to remain centered and upright (not to mention on the bull) until the buzzer sounds 8 seconds later.

Eight seconds doesn’t sound like a long time, but it must seem like an eternity when you’re on the back of a bull who’s trying to throw you off.

Life is a lot like bull riding in some ways. You think you’re ready for it, but suddenly, it begins rearing and twisting like crazy. You’re desperate to stay on, but you don’t know how much longer you can. It feels like life is trying to toss you off its back into the dust.

When they’re bull riding, cowboys only think about that very instant. Their minds and bodies must be focused on the here and now, or they’re going down. But in life, when we’re being tossed about like crazy, we have to focus on what happens after the buzzer, not before.

When the buzzer sounds in bull riding, the bullfighters (also known as “rodeo clowns”) rush toward you so you can dismount. Then they distract the bull so you can get away. You head to the rails and climb up. You’re safe. It’s over.

In life, as you dismount from your circumstances (whether in this life or in heaven), God Himself rushes in. Instead of heading to the rails, you head for His embrace. You’re safe. It’s over.

May we never forget that no matter what we’re going through, the buzzer will sound, the ride will end, and we’ll be safe. The pain will be over. We will have won.

Even when it seems like it will, your pain won’t last forever. The end is coming.

Hold out for the buzzer, my friend. Hold on just a little longer.

2 Corinthians 4:17—So our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. (NIV)

Priceless

Maialisa / Pixabay

It was 7:55 a.m. My students had begun to arrive in the classroom and hang up their jackets and backpacks. I sat at my desk, completing some last-minute paperwork before the start of the school day.

“Señora Breedlove?” a voice asked.

I looked up to see a student standing next to my desk, holding something hidden in his hands. “Yes, Michael?” I asked. (Note: Michael is not his real name.)

“I brought you something,” he said, unclasping his hands to reveal a folded-up dollar bill. I stood up to receive it. “I know you don’t get paid very much,” Michael said quietly, “so here.”

Wordlessly, I held out my hand, and he placed the dollar in it. “It’s not much,” he said, “but it’s something.”

Rarely am I at a loss for words. This was one of those times.

I teach at an inner-city school. My students aren’t rich. But Michael, probably because he’s heard adults in his life talk about how “teachers don’t get paid much,” wanted to do something about that. So he gave me what he had.

What do you think I said to him? Did I say, “Michael, this is only a dollar. This isn’t worth anything to me”?

Of course not. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart. I don’t remember exactly what I said; I only remember that my words seemed inadequate. Michael may have thought “it’s not much,” but he was wrong.

It was priceless.

That’s what I want you to remember when you feel discouraged because what you have to offer God “isn’t much.” Your gift—no matter the monetary value or the way society perceives it—is worth far more than you may think it is.

It’s priceless, too.

A missionary who devotes her life to serving the people of a foreign land gives no more to God than does a stay-at-home mom who spends her days fixing meals toddlers will eat, driving the carpool, and folding laundry.

God places no more value on the service of a speaker who brings the Word of God to thousands of people than He does on the labor of a mom who works to earn a paycheck so that her children will have what they need.

That’s because what God wants from us has little to do with the particulars of our gift, but everything to do with the heart behind it. With whether we’re doing the best we can and giving Him everything we have.

At the end of the year, many students give their teacher gifts. It’s possible, therefore, that I may receive gifts that cost more than $1.

But I will never receive one that’s worth more.

Mark 12:44—“They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” (NIV)

$87

groceries with receipt
stevepb / Pixabay

A week or two ago, I went to the Walmart Neighborhood Market in our, well, neighborhood. I intended to buy only a gallon of milk and a pack of candy for Timmy. It was a trip that should have cost me about $3.50.

Want to know what I wound up buying?

  • Brown sugar
  • Frozen chicken nuggets
  • 2 tubes of kid toothpaste
  • A squishy toy for Lindsey
  • 2 gallons of Blue Bell ice cream (chocolate chip cookie dough and vanilla)
  • 3 gallons of milk
  • 3 boxes of cereal
  • 1 box of ice cream cones (to go with the Blue Bell)
  • 1 package of gum
  • A giant box of Eggo waffles
  • A giant bag of candy
  • 1 bag of chocolate chips
  • 2 packs of rawhide dog bones
  • 6 bags of dog treats
  • 1 bag of jelly beans
  • 1 dog toy

That’s because once I got to the store, I kept thinking of things I needed or wanted, and before I knew it, I had spent $87. Not $3.50, but $87.

Of course, if I had been going to Target instead of Walmart, I would have gone in there for $3.50 worth of merchandise and come out having spent $287, instead of $87. But that’s beside the point. The point is that once I got started, I spent more than I had intended to.

In this case, it wasn’t a problem. We had the money, and we would make good use of all the things I bought. Giving in to temptation turned out okay this time.

That’s not always the case.

We think we can control temptation’s grip on us. We think we can safely go just so far and no farther, but we wind up dishonoring our Lord because we trusted in our ability to make the right decision in the heat of temptation—despite repeated failures on our part, which should have been sufficient to prove to us that relying on our own willpower is not a good idea.

If we were smart—and if we truly understood our weaknesses—we’d never walk willingly into a tempting situation we could avoid. If there was no way to avoid it, we’d never walk in without taking precautions to keep ourselves from sinning. We’d consider in advance what temptations we might be about to face, and we’d do whatever it took to strengthen ourselves for the moment when temptation came upon us.

We’d pray on a regular basis. We’d read Scripture, fellowship with other believers, and attend church. We’d do all this, and more, in advance, so that when the battle came, we’d be victorious.

If you need to be more proactive about resisting temptation—and which of us doesn’t? —I encourage you to read Ephesians 6:10-18, one verse of which is quoted below. This passage tells us what God says we should do if we want to withstand temptation instead of fall to it. It’s the “Armor of God” passage, and it tells us how to gird ourselves for the battle.

It also points out that we need to gird ourselves before the battle comes, not after. Because by then, it may be too late.

Ephesians 6:18—Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.  (NIV)

The More Things Change…

geralt / Pixabay

You’ve heard the saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same”?

Allow me to catch you up on what God’s been doing in my life for the last six-plus months. When I do, and when I share one of the many lessons He’s taught me through all of it, you’ll see why I titled this devotion what I did.

On June 20 of last year, I accepted a position as the third-grade Spanish Immersion teacher at a nearby school in my local school district. I had taught before, but never for a public school, and never with an elementary-level focus. But my husband and I believed that getting a job at all, and accepting this job in particular, was God’s plan for me and for our family.

For the rest of the summer, I prepared to teach. I continued my online coursework toward my teaching certificate; I consulted friends who are teachers for tips on classroom management; I bought things for my classroom; I attended approximately 80 hours of training; I prayed and thought and planned some more.

It turned out that school was not at all what I had thought it would be. For the first two weeks, I cried every time I thought about having to go to work. God and I had some honest, raw conversations during this time and in the following weeks.

Then, in the middle of October, my beloved stepmother, who had turned just 61 years old a few days before, died suddenly and unexpectedly of a heart attack. I was devastated. Since then, I’ve experienced not only grief that flares up when I’m least prepared for it, but family issues related to my dad’s health and finances.

At first, it seemed that my life had changed a lot in the past six-plus months. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what truly constitutes my life hadn’t changed at all.

According to the words that came from the very mouth of Jesus, true life now, and always has, consisted of knowing God. In another place, Jesus made it clear that the only things God wants from me are to know and love Him, and to pour out His love on anyone He puts in my path as my neighbor. This is true life, Jesus said, and that hasn’t changed in the past six months. Nor will it ever.

No matter where I work, my purpose for working there will be to love the people I serve. My comfort level at my job has nothing to do with what constitutes life.

Similarly, whether I’m surrounded by my loved ones until the day I die, or whether some of them depart this earth before I do, my best and most loving relationship will always be found with God. I can enjoy my earthly relationships with others, but they aren’t my life.

Circumstances can change in a heartbeat, or in the cessation of one. They’re shifting sand. My life—what fulfills me, what brings me the best and highest joy—is now, and always has been, loving and being loved by God Himself, and sharing His love with those around me.

Yes, I would love to have a job that’s comfortable and easy every moment of every day. Yes, I would love to have my stepmother back for just one more day, one more phone call, one more text, even.

But even if I could….

Even if I could, what matters most in life wouldn’t change. My circumstances would change, yes. My level of joy? Oh, yes. At least temporarily.

But not what constitutes true life for me. Because true life is God, and He never changes.

I’ll go on trying to make positive changes at school. I’ll continue to miss Sheryl every single day. But I will refuse to believe that true life is found in the absence of distress or the presence of whatever, or whomever, I desire. Instead, I will do my imperfect best to live out the truth to anyone who might be watching that God is enough for me, now and forevermore.

The more the details change, the more what really matters, stays the same.

In that, I am comforted. In that, I truly live.

John 17:3—Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. (NIV)

Luke 10:27—He answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (NIV)