Manna For Moms

Devotions for Moms Like You!

Megan Breedlove

What Jesus Did for You at Calvary That You May Never Have Realized

Megan Breedlove No Comments

CrossI’m 45 years old. Easter 2016 has been my 46th Easter. I’ve heard the Easter story hundreds of times. I’ve known for many years that “Jesus died on the cross to save me from my sins.”

But there’s something about what Jesus did on Calvary that I never realized until this year.

And it’s something I’ve wanted all my life. I just never knew I had it. Until this morning during the sermon.

Before I tell you what I realized, I need to tell you something else: My childhood and growing-up years were very difficult in some ways. By no means was every moment horrible, but suffice it to say that those years were tough. I only mention it here for two reasons: First, it’s necessary to do so in order to explain why what Christ purchased for me with His blood means so very much to me; and second, perhaps some of you have endured similar suffering and long to have what I only recently realized that I had all along (it’s what you had all along, too).

I grew up believing that I was never right unless I conformed to certain standards. That I was never acceptable or accepted unless I acted a certain way. That I must constantly try to please people who would never fully love me unless I could do and be and say exactly what they wanted.

I grew up believing that I was somehow never fully “right.” That any temporary reprieve from the anxiety of having to live up to impossible standards (because I just couldn’t be the “right” person) was just that—temporary.

I’m sure you can see why what I have wanted more than anything else my entire life was to know that I’m “right” enough. That I’m “good” enough. Not that I’m sinless, but just that I’m not constantly wrong.

Today, I got what I’ve always wanted. And in case you’ve always wanted it too, I want to share with you what I learned about Easter that I never realized before, because it’s all connected.

You and I both know that when Jesus died on the cross, He took the punishment that we deserved because of our sinfulness. We also both know that God the Father considers Jesus’ righteousness now to be ours as well. We can be counted legally sinless before God because Jesus’ perfect record stands in for us. Even though we continue to sin, we are not guilty.

Jesus was judged guilty. Jesus was sentenced. Jesus paid the full penalty.

Do you realize what that means?

It means that you and I are not always wrong. It means—get this—that in terms of our standing before God, we’re always right.

Because Jesus lived a sinless life and then died on Calvary, you and I get to have what we always wanted. We get to be fully acceptable to someone no matter what we do or fail to do. We get to be fully loved completely apart from the level of our performance.

In fact—and this is where it gets truly mind-blowing—our efforts to “get it right” add nothing to our being right. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING! Because we’re already right!

We are right because of Jesus, not because of ourselves (remember how His perfect record stands in for us?). And because Jesus is incapable of anything less than perfection, we are always right.

Again, “right” does not means we’re not factually sinless. We do sin, and God knows it. Being “right” means that we’re always in right standing with God because of Jesus. Despite the fact that we continue to sin, we will never be out of right standing with God. True, He will not like our sinful actions. He will not be pleased with them. But—and this is an incredible thought for anyone who didn’t grow up this way—He won’t count them against us. He won’t distance Himself from us because we’ve suddenly become unacceptable (because He doesn’t consider us unacceptable, no matter what). He won’t stop loving us because we didn’t do or be or say the right thing.

Let me say it as plainly as I can: Jesus not only lifted our punishment from us, He also lifted from us the burden of always being wrong. Of always not measuring up.

And He made us always right, and accepted, and loved.

He did for me what I always wanted, and I never “got it” until today. But today, I got what I’ve always had.

I hope you did, too.

1 Peter 2:24—“He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” (NIV)

Why We Should Embrace Unpleasant Consequences

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Jesus with cross“Mommy! Timmy’s being a pest again! He’s lying down on our game board so we can’t play!”

I don’t always get up and do something about it when my kids tattle. Sometimes, I merely explain to the offended party that it’s normal for boys to make noises like that and not something she can tattle about; or that that’s the response the child should expect when he or she starts something and therefore can’t complain; or that sometimes in life, you just have to let things go (which, depending on how I phrase it, might cause one or more children to burst into song).

This time, however, 4-year-old Timmy had been pestering his sisters for quite awhile. He’d been warned  that he’d better be good or else. Now, it was time to make good on my promise.

I got up and headed for the living room. Timmy saw me coming, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. “I’m just going to my room,” he said, edging past me.

Obviously, Timmy wanted to avoid the consequences he feared were coming.

I can’t really blame him for that. Nobody likes unpleasant consequences. We do everything we can to avoid them, even when we know we deserve them.

But today, and especially this week, I’d like us to consider Someone Who didn’t try to avoid some horrific consequences, despite the fact that He was totally innocent.

I’m talking, of course, about Jesus. But I may be making a different point than you’ve ever heard before (I hadn’t heard it before, either, until this Sunday’s sermon), so stick with me.

We all know that through most of His sham of a trial, Jesus said nothing to defend Himself. Perhaps, like me, you’ve always assumed that Jesus said nothing because He knew it wouldn’t do any good, or because He had decided to demonstrate amazing self-control, or because He was “better than that.” All of those things are true, of course. But there was another reason Jesus remained silent that we would do well to consider.

One of the (I believe) primary reasons Jesus remained silent and refused to defend Himself was that He wanted the consequences to happen.

Though He was sinless and deserved no punishment, He was well aware of two things: first, that one consequence of His trial would be crucifixion; and second, that the crucifixion had to happen. So He kept silent precisely to bring about the consequences He never deserved, but which God the Father had decreed must take place.

He embraced what had already begun to happen to Him because He wanted it to happen. It’s not that He thought it would be fun. Quite the opposite, in fact—He knew it would be agonizing. But He wanted the results of His crucifixion more than He wanted to avoid the pain of it.

He wanted to gain His Father’s approval and the salvation of the world more than He wanted to maintain His physical comfort.

How does this pertain to you and me? Simply this: We sometimes need to desire the consequences of what is happening more than we desire to avoid the pain of it.

It all comes down to what we want most. Would we rather have a pain-free life, or would we rather experience the intimacy with Jesus that comes from walking through pain?

I’m not suggesting that we should desire pain. That’s just…no. What I’m saying is, that when we do experience unavoidable pain, instead of running from it or trying to eliminate it as soon as possible, we’d do far better to embrace it and let it guide us to spiritual depth, growth, and intimacy that wouldn’t have been possible without it.

But to do that, we have to feel pain. We have to be willing to face it, not turn our backs on it. And that’s scary. Nobody likes to be hurt. Nobody wants to feel pain one second longer than she has to. So we try to make it go away, because we think we have the option of either feeling the pain and being miserable, or feeling no pain and being happier.

In reality, the choice is not allowing pain to make us miserable vs. being happy. The choice is between letting God guide us through the pain so that we heal in some deeper way than we ever knew possible, and gain a closeness to God that we never would have had otherwise; or stuffing the pain down deep and never being truly happy again.

Again, I’m neither saying that we should seek or desire pain, nor that we shouldn’t seek comfort and counsel when we suffer. I’m saying that when pain comes, as it surely will in every single person’s life, we should let it do its work in us, let it bring us to a deeper and more joy-filled place than we would have been by trying to avoid it.

Trying to avoid pain doesn’t really work, anyway. So let’s not deny ourselves the good things God can bring out of it. Let’s follow the example of our Lord, who embraced the pain of what was happening, knowing that glory and joy awaited Him on the other side.

Romans 8:18—I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. (NIV)

Hebrews 12:2b—For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (NIV)

Nah…Nothing Could Go Wrong

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Timmy and skateboardRecently, I bought my son, Timmy, a child-sized skateboard.

If you’ve read my blog for very long, or followed me on Facebook, you’ve “met” him, and you know why buying him a skateboard means making sure he only uses it outside, where nobody and nothing else is around, and making sure our health insurance is up-to-date.

But after seeing one of his friends get a skateboard, and having the friend’s uncle teach the friend and my kids to use it, Timmy desperately wanted one of his own. So, because I am the kind of mom who figures that bumps, bruises, and even broken bones are part of childhood, I bought him one.

As with any milestone in my children’s lives (or even, for that matter, anything of even minor significance), I took a picture of Timmy holding his new skateboard, and I posted it on Facebook. The caption read, “Today, I bought Timmy a skateboard. What could possibly go wrong?”

Comments from my friends who know Timmy included, “Do you have a bed reserved at the hospital?” “Time to test the insurance,” and, “Hey, Mom, watch me jump off the porch! Are you watching, Mom? Look, Mom!”

We all know that childhood carries with it a certain amount of…well, injuries. Those are par for the course. Most of the time, they don’t stop us from allowing our children to do the activity in question. We might require them to take precautions (such as, in this case, a helmet and pads), but we give permission anyway, because the risk is overshadowed by the reward.

Following this strategy in terms of childhood activities is one thing. Being guided by it in terms of decisions about spiritual things is another matter, entirely.

If I let Timmy learn to skateboard, and he breaks an arm in the process, it’s no big deal. We’ll take him to the hospital and get the necessary treatment, and we’ll do whatever is necessary to help him accomplish his daily activities while he still has the cast on. But ultimately, arms heal, and he’ll be fine. Good as new.

If I make an unwise spiritual decision, however—if I’m single and I decide to marry someone I have doubts about; if I’m married and allow myself to become attracted to another man; if I decide that I don’t need to go to church anymore; if I choose a group of friends who supports my drinking to excess, or my using drugs—then I may very well wind up with permanent consequences.

That’s because spiritual scars are a lot more painful and take a lot longer to heal than physical scars.

Discounting the potential consequences of buying your child a skateboard—saying, “Even if he gets hurt, more than likely, he’ll heal completely and be just fine”—is one thing. But discounting the potential consequences of a spiritual decision? Saying, “That will never happen to me,” or “I’m a strong Christian; I can get away with that,” or “Who cares? I’ll take my chances”? Dangerous ground, indeed.

Satan loves it when he can get us to minimize or discount what might happen to us as the result of a risky spiritual decision. Look at Adam and Eve in the garden! What was the serpent’s (Satan’s) strategy? He convinced Eve, then Adam, to think that the consequences God had promised wouldn’t really happen to them.

Yes! Consequences can really happen to you (and to me). Yes! Even strong Christians fall when they never expected to. Yes! Playing Russian Roulette with sin’s consequences could very well result in disaster.

So don’t do it! Consider your spiritual health of far more importance even than your physical health. Trust the God Who’s already weighed the consequences of everything and told you to abstain from certain activities, rather than your own desire for excitement or your own ability to bead the odds.

Just as I expect Timmy to obey me because I know far more than he does about what is safe for him, so God expects us to obey Him because He sees the end from the beginning, whereas we don’t.

Let Him be the One to decide what’s safe for you.

Don’t just get out there with no helmet and no padding and hope you’re okay.

Genesis 3:4-5—And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. (KJV)

1 Corinthians 10:12—Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.

How Not to Worry

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worried womanThis past Friday night, Lindsey and I were lounging on the couch together, just hanging out. She, of course, wanted to stay up late. But much as I wanted to continue our time together, I knew it would be better for her to get plenty of sleep.

“You’re going to have to get up early tomorrow,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s why I’m tired.”

“You’re tired in advance?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said again. “It happens.”

Indeed, it does. I, too, have had times where I thought ahead to something that was coming up and got tired just thinking about it. You’ve probably had those times, too.

It’s understandable. The only thing is, we have to be careful about letting tomorrow affect today too much.

Apparently you and I aren’t the first ones ever to do this, because two thousand years ago, Jesus cautioned listeners now to let tomorrow mess up today. “Do not worry about tomorrow,” He said, “for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matt. 6:34, NIV).

Why would Jesus tell us not to do something that comes so naturally for us? First, worrying won’t change anything. In the verses just before the one cited above, Jesus illustrates this fact in several ways: We can’t add to our height. We can’t add a day to our lives. We just. Can’t. Do. It.

Not only does worry accomplish nothing, Jesus says, but second, we know that everything we need will be provided. All we need to do, He says, is focus on God and His priorities, and God will take care of the rest. It doesn’t make sense to worry when we know that we’re going to be taken care of.

Third, worrying destroys our peace. It churns us up inside. It’s useless (that was the first reason), it’s pointless (that was the second), and, third, it’s destructive. God doesn’t want us to harm ourselves like that.

So how do we stop worrying (which is often much easier said than done)?

First, let’s realize that Jesus wasn’t saying to stop thinking about tomorrow; He was saying we should stop worrying about it (huge difference).  Thinking about tomorrow is okay; worrying isn’t.

Second, we have to admit that worrying is a choice. It’s not required. Even when we’re facing something potentially difficult, we have a choice as to the perspective we choose to take. We can choose not to let thoughts of what might happen tomorrow ruin what is happening today.

When we find ourselves tempted to worry about the possibilities, let’s choose instead to focus on the fact that today, it isn’t happening. Today, there are things to rejoice in and enjoy. There is life to be lived.

Yes, what happens tomorrow might be awful. But it might not. If it is, then God will meet us there, with His incredible love, comfort, and wisdom. We will be cared for. We will survive.

If it’s not…well, then there was no point in ever worrying about it in the first place.

Matthew 6:34—Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (NIV)

When You Need Practice

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Football practiceI didn’t think picking up Cheerios was such a big deal.

Apparently, it was, at least to Timmy, who didn’t want to pick up the bag of Cheerios he’d dragged into his room for use with his Cheerios book.

“Please pick up the Cheerios and put them away,” I said.

“Aagghh!” Timmy yelled. “I’m mad! And angry! And shout-y! And I’m never going to clean up anything!”

“Oh, yes, you are,” I said firmly.

“I’m bad at cleaning up stuff,” Timmy grumbled in a last-ditch protest.

“That’s why you need practice,” I said.

There then ensued an hour-long battle over whether Timmy was or was not going to pick up the Cheerios. I told him he could sit in his room until he was willing to put the package back on the counter; he refused and kept escaping from his room; I kept putting him back.

The problem was eventually solved by Jessica, who went into Timmy’s room while I was otherwise occupied and convinced him to pick up the Cheerios. But that’s not the point.

The point is that I think that God sometimes has to do the same with us—that is, give us opportunities to practice things we’re not good at.

I don’t know why most struggles and trials happen. I don’t know why we sometimes have to keep dealing with the same thing over and over and over. But I bet that sometimes—on occasion—the reason God allows us to keep facing the same issues repeatedly is because we need practice in dealing with them.

Sometimes, it just takes us awhile to get things through our heads. Sometimes, we know in our heads how we ought to speak or think or act, but we’re not yet ready in our hearts to put those things into practice. And even when we are ready, and have the best of intentions, we still mess up.

We need practice.

It’s kind of like studying for a test or training for an athletic competition. We study, or put in the physical effort, beforehand, so that when the time of testing comes, we’re ready. Likewise, we need practice in dealing with certain issues so that when they arise, we can handle them right, or at least better than we did last time.

Not that practicing is fun. It’s not. Nobody likes struggling to hold back the words she really wants to say, or to have a good attitude when she wants to scream. Nobody wants trials or struggles. But we all want the ultimate result—being able to handle even negative situations without getting upset, and in the process, pleasing Christ.

So we’re going to have to practice. “Practice” may or may not be the purpose in our struggles. But as long as we have to struggle, let’s not waste those opportunities. Let’s use them as a way to help us progress toward the ultimate goal of being like Jesus.

God wastes nothing. And neither should we.

Hebrews 12:11—No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (NIV)

Why It’s Good That Your Kids Don’t Appreciate You

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Mended broken heartMy youngest child just turned four. This year, both his birthday and his party actually fell on a Saturday. What with making the cake, setting up for the party, and then actually hosting the party, it was a long (but good) day.

That evening, we sat at the table for supper. I was thinking back to the events of the day. Lindsey obviously had something else on her mind. “My birthday’s next!” she announced.

Lindsey’s birthday is in April. But mine is in March. “Actually, mine’s next,” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Lindsey said. “You have birthdays, too.”

I could have taken her comment as evidence that my kids take me for granted, or that they only think about themselves, or that they don’t appreciate me. I could have become resentful. But I chose not to.

Because it’s actually good that our kids don’t fully appreciate us.

Don’t get me wrong; our kids need to learn to appreciate us. But not fully.

That’s because in order for a child to fully appreciate love and patience, the child would have had to be denied those things from the very people who were supposed to provide them. She would have had to become so used to not receiving them that she realizes what an incredible gift it is when someone shows her true, unconditional love, or when someone is patient with her slowness.

In order for her to truly appreciate the sacrifices you make for her, your child would have had to be forced into responsibilities far beyond her years. She would have had to grow up too fast. She would have had to be in the position you’re in—where she had to sacrifice, because there was no one else to do it. Where she had to keep going no matter what. Where she had to go without so that others could receive what they needed.

The fact that your child doesn’t fully appreciate you means that she has never been wounded to the deepest parts of her soul by being denied things like love, patience, and sacrifice.

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t teach our children to be appreciative of what is done for them (we should). I’m just suggesting that when our children fail to be appreciative the way we would like them to be, we can choose a perspective other than anger and resentment.

We can choose to be glad. Not glad that our child was unappreciative, but glad that she never suffered the lack of having her basic needs met in the way that some children suffer. Glad for the reminder that even with all the mistakes we make, we still must be doing something right.

And glad for the opportunity to practice loving like God, who always chooses to love even when He doesn’t receive the appreciation He deserves.

Luke 6:35—“But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.” (ESV)

Waffles and Clowns

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waffle clownMy son Timmy’s 4th birthday is fast approaching, and he can’t wait. If I had a dollar for every time he’s asked, “Is it my birthday yet?” I’d have a lot of money. Recently, my daughter Jessica turned 8, and Timmy was upset. “Why isn’t it my birthday yet?” he asked. Then, yesterday, when I was getting a gift bag out of the hall closet to put my godson’s birthday present in, Timmy saw the back and suggested, “Let’s get my birthday started!”

But my favorite comment of all was when he said, “I’m going to tell you what I want for my party. I want a helicopter, and I will want some of my own clowns, please.”

Later, as we were looking at Paw Patrol cakes online so he could choose one for me to make for him, he abruptly changed the theme of his party to construction vehicles. And the next day, he told me he wanted waffles for his party.

Apparently, this is supposed to be a party with construction-themed paper goods for decorations, with clowns for entertainment, and with waffles for refreshments.

It’s a theme I never would have thought of.

But you know what? It works for Timmy. Timmy doesn’t care that clowns and waffles have nothing to do with each other, much less with bulldozers. All he knows is that those three things are what he wants at his party.

Clowns. Waffles. Bulldozers.

I think there’s a lesson to be learned here. And I think it’s one we all need to take to heart.

Timmy is a little boy who likes lots of different things. He’s not afraid to be himself and make choices that reflect the unique person God created him to be.

Wouldn’t it be beautiful if you and I could act the same way?

Too often, we spend our lives trying to censor the things that make us unique. We squelch the likes and dislikes that make us different from our neighbor/best friend/mom. We bury our hopes and dreams because they don’t match up with what we’re “supposed” to want. We spend our lives trying to fit into the mold that produced someone we admire (and who, we’re certain, does things much better than we do).

In the process, we lose the unique, fearfully and wonderfully made individual that God created us to be.

Granted, there is one very important way in which we’re all supposed to be the same: We’re all meant to be like Jesus. Being like Jesus is what’s important. It’s irrelevant if we’re like a certain person at church, or our sister, or some other woman we know. As long as we’re walking in God’s ways (as revealed in Scripture), we’re free to be whoever He made us to be.

Do you like cats? Fine. Do you hate carbonated beverages? Fine. Do you dislike cooking or love jogging or hate serving on committees or love painting landscapes? Fine, fine, fine, fine.

God made you to be you. He didn’t intend you to be a cookie cutter version of anyone else; He intends for you to be who you are meant to be, because if you live into His design for you, you will reflect His glory in a way that nobody else on this earth will reflect Him.

If you want waffles and clowns for your birthday, go ahead and have them. And maybe even throw in a bulldozer or two.

I bet God would love that.

 

Jeremiah 1:5—“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I set you apart.” (emphasis mine) (NIV)

Why I’m Longing for Easter Right Now

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Easter TombSometimes, you know something, but you don’t really know it.

Maybe you know it for years, and then all of a sudden, one day, the topic comes up in a fresh way, and you have this epiphany that causes you to see things in a whole new light. And you wonder, Why didn’t I think of that before???

I’ve known for years that Jesus lived in unspeakable glory in heaven with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Likewise, I’ve known that Jesus came to earth, which wasn’t really glorious at all in comparison, and that while He was on earth, He suffered all kinds of indignities and mistreatments (the biggest one being, of course, His murder).

But God reached down to my heart and mind through the words of this week’s sermon and helped me “get it” in a way I never got it before.

Lately, I’ve been struggling with, well, lots of things. Lots of pressure, stress, discouragement, and grief. I’ve been asking some raw questions. Why do I have to suffer so much? Haven’t I had far more than my fair share of suffering in this life? Is life going to be like this forever?

But, Lent.

For those of you who don’t know, or who never really thought about it (as I didn’t until becoming a member of the Anglican church), Lent is basically the 40 days preceding Easter. On Mardi Gras, or “Fat Tuesday” (which I know you’ve heard of), people have a party. The idea is that the next day, Ash Wednesday, they begin to engage in the spiritual disciplines of denial.

One reason for this denial to remember Christ’s suffering here on earth—not just His suffering on the cross, but His suffering in even having to be here at all.

Even Jesus suffered on earth, which led to my first realization: Why shouldn’t I suffer? Do I really think that I deserve to escape that which even Christ had to go through? If only I could remain on the Mount of Transfiguration, basking in the glow. But I can’t. Even Jesus had to come down off the mountaintop, and so do I. That spiritual glow that I feel sometimes when I’m feeling particularly close to God and all is right with the world is only a step on the way to the Garden and to Golgotha.

I can’t remain on the mountaintop forever.

Lent is basically a microcosm of life. We start out grandly and gloriously on Mardi Gras (as Jesus started out grandly and gloriously in heaven). Then, we enter into suffering, just as Jesus did. Some people who observe Lent also observe a “break”, where they do not have to observe the denial they’ve been observing through the rest of the season. That’s kind of like how it is in life. We get breaks sometimes. The fact that we suffer doesn’t mean there are never any good days.

But after the break, it’s back to suffering. Until…Easter! Just as Jesus suffered until, well, Easter, when He again returned to His former glory and no longer suffers.

Friend, hear me: Easter is coming for us, too. For you and for me. And praise God that it is! Our suffering won’t last forever. It might seem like it’s eternal, but it isn’t. Easter (or, in our case, heaven!) is coming.

It’s coming as surely as seasons pass, and days, weeks, months and years. Each moment of suffering that we endure is only getting us closer to our Easter, the time when everything will once again be made glorious.

It isn’t quite Lent, yet. Maybe that corresponds to the fact that life is pretty good for you right now. It’s even pretty good for me. When I step back and look at the things that are weighing heavily upon me, I have to realize that I still have a pretty good life. But suffering will come. In some form or fashion, it will come.

But it won’t stay, at least not forever.

Easter is on the way.

Revelation 7:17—The Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. (ESV)

What to Do When the Hits Just Keep On Comin’

Megan Breedlove No Comments

boxing_glove1The past few weeks have been stressful for me.

The kids and I started back home schooling after Christmas break. There were some pretty significant, ongoing issues relating to our oldest son and his disability that we had to struggle to deal with. A friend’s son attempted to commit suicide, and a few days later, he died in the hospital. Then, my stepfather died suddenly from a heart attack. The seven of us traveled to Missouri for a few days to attend his funeral. While there, and even afterwards, I had to deal with issues relating to my extended family and my mom. The morning after we arrived home, the kids and I took off for San Antonio, where we had reservations which we couldn’t have rescheduled without losing a few hundred dollars. A couple days later, Phil and I found out we need a new air conditioning system for the house (a must in Texas) which, depending on the expense, may wipe out our savings. A couple days after that, I held Jessica’s birthday party for her friends. Tomorrow, our homeschool co-op gets back in session, and I will be teaching in two classes and assisting in two others. And all this is in the midst of other personal, family, and relationship issues, some of which are deeply painful.

My head is spinning. I feel like I don’t know which way is up.

Or maybe a better way to put it is that I feel like I’m participating in one of the tests I had to take during the lifeguard certification process back in the day, where we had to jump into the pool, dive to the bottom, pick up a 10-pound, brick-shaped weight, then swim to the surface and tread water for one minute while holding the weight out of the water with both hands.

Life is hard right now.

But the prayers of others have made a difference. In fact, they have kept my head above water while I held the brick and treaded like mad with my legs.

I truly believe, because I have experienced it, that prayer can make a difference in the lives of others. Prayer is not just something we offer because we don’t have anything “better” or “more” to give. Prayer is extremely valuable. It’s not the least we can do, but the most.

Scripture makes it clear that God hears our prayers, is moved by them, and acts in response to them. So when people pray for me, they are asking Almighty God to exercise His power on my behalf. And we know that God grants all prayers which are righteous and in accordance with His will.

Thus, the comfort others ask for me to receive adds to the comfort I’ve requested, and I’m able to keep treading water, despite the weight I carry in my hands.

So when the hits just keep on comin’, ask people to pray. By all means, ask them for practical things, too, and accept offers of help. But above all, ask for their heartfelt and continued prayers.

Because those prayers touch the heart of God for you. And there is nothing more valuable that someone can do for you than entreat God to act.

James 5:16—Pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. (NIV)

Hidden Treasures

Megan Breedlove No Comments

pan flute buskerSometimes, treasure lies buried in a field.

Other times, treasure is obscured in jars of clay.

I found treasure in a dark subway platform in New York City.

My husband Phil and I were in NYC for a trip celebrating our 20th anniversary. We rode the subway several times, since it’s much cheaper and often much quicker than taking above-ground transportation. One time, as we exited the subway and started toward the stairs to take us back to the real world, I heard music playing.

Sweet, beautiful, pure music.

I turned in the dimness to see a man playing a pan flute. As the notes of “How Great Is Our God” soared (yes, somehow soared, even on a subway platform) through the air, I stopped. I caught Phil’s attention, and he and I walked over to the man, who was standing next to a suitcase that lay open on the ground next to him. Inside were stacks of two different CD’s.

The music was incredibly well-played and so very, very peaceful. I bought both CD’s.

Treasure on a New York City subway platform.

It would have been easy to pass the man by. In NYC, you get used to ignoring people in the subway. Nobody pays attention to anybody else, really. But this time, for some reason, I paid attention, and I discovered treasure—two beautiful CD’s of some of my favorite music, and a connection between me and a perfect stranger as we chatted.

I wonder how much treasure you and I miss every day because we’re not really paying attention.

How many diamonds does God place right out there in the open for us to discover if we’ll only focus outward?

Obviously, yes, we have to consider our schedules, our duties, our relationships, our circumstances. But when we focus on them to the exclusion of seeing anything else God might place in our path, we miss beauty. We miss treasure.

May God open our eyes to see His treasures all around us.

Even in shadowy, unexpected places like a NYC subway platform.

Isaiah 45:3—And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness—secret riches. I will do this so you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name. (NLT)

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