"Don't waste your time on trying to figure out how God's going to do it. Don't waste your time on trying to figure out when God's going to do it. Don't waste your time on trying to figure out where's God's going to do it. God is the great unfigure-outable God. Just trust Him when He says He's going to do it that He's going to do it." Tony Evans
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Very good checkup
We went to Birmingham yesterday for a scheduled checkup with my surgeon. He said my mouth looked better than it had looked in a long time. I had not found any lumps in my neck, and he didn't find any when he checked, so all was good. He had looked at the CD I brought with me of the MRI I had in June. He had already seen the report and just confirmed the CD showed nothing to be concerned about. He, of course, advised that I continue the monthly Erbitux, and then he cut me loose for 6 months. It had already been 5 months since my last surgery. Another 6 months before I have to see him again will be wonderful. God is faithful, and He is blessing!!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Yes, God listens
"I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God. Bend down and listen as I pray." Psalm 17:6 (NLT)
Monday, August 30, 2010
Do not rush God
"Wait on God’s plan to unfold. Then you will know He did it and you were part of His bigger plan."
"Do not rush God. He can be trusted. What He says, He will do. He will accomplish His will, His way—in His time."
Read the full article at Wisdom Hunters.
"Do not rush God. He can be trusted. What He says, He will do. He will accomplish His will, His way—in His time."
Read the full article at Wisdom Hunters.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Shaylynn's story
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Waiting for Him
"Oh, that You would rend the heavens! That You would come down! That the mountains might shake at Your Presence – as fire burns brushwood, as fire causes water to boil – to make Your Name known to Your adversaries, that the nations may tremble at Your Presence! When You did awesome things for which we did not look, You came down, the mountains shook at Your Presence. For since the beginning of the world men have not heard nor perceived by the ear, nor has the eye seen any God besides You, who acts for the one who waits for Him." Isaiah 64:1-4
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Life is a journey
“Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God.” 1 Peter 1:17, The Message
Monday, July 19, 2010
God understands our sighs
When God Sighed
by Max Lucado
Two days ago I read a word in the Bible that has since taken up residence in my heart.
To be honest, I didn’t quite know what to do with it. It’s only one word, and not a very big one at that. When I ran across the word, (which, by the way, is exactly what happened; I was running through the passage and this word came out of nowhere and bounced me like a speed bump) I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t have any hook to hang it on or category to file it under.
It was an enigmatic word in an enigmatic passage. But now, forty-eight hours later, I have found a place for it, a place all its own. My, what a word it is. Don’t read it unless you don’t mind changing your mind, because this little word might move your spiritual furniture around a bit.
Look at the passage with me.
Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. There some people brought a man to him who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man.
After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means, “Be opened!”). At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly. (Mark 7:31-35)
Quite a passage, isn’t it?
Jesus is presented with a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment. Perhaps he stammered. Maybe he spoke with a lisp. Perhaps, because of his deafness, he never learned to articulate words properly.
Jesus, refusing to exploit the situation, took the man aside. He looked him in the face. Knowing it would be useless to talk, he explained what he was about to do through gestures. He spat and touched the man’s tongue, telling him that whatever restricted his speech was about to be removed. He touched his ears. They, for the first time, were about to hear.
But before the man said a word or heard a sound, Jesus did something I never would have anticipated.
He sighed.
I might have expected a clap or a song or a prayer. Even a “Hallelujah!” or a brief lesson might have been appropriate. But the Son of God did none of these. Instead, he paused, looked into heaven, and sighed. From the depths of his being came a rush of emotion that said more than words.
Sigh. The word seemed out of place.
I’d never thought of God as one who sighs. I’d thought of God as one who commands. I’d thought of God as one who weeps. I’d thought of God as one who called forth the dead with a command or created the universe with a word … but a God who sighs?
Perhaps this phrase caught my eye because I do my share of sighing.
I sighed yesterday when I visited a lady whose invalid husband had deteriorated so much he didn’t recognize me. He thought I was trying to sell him something.
I sighed when the dirty-faced, scantily dressed, six-year-old girl in the grocery store asked me for some change.
And I sighed today listening to a husband tell how his wife won’t forgive him.
No doubt you’ve done your share of sighing.
If you have teenagers, you’ve probably sighed. If you’ve tried to resist temptation, you’ve probably sighed. If you’ve had your motives questioned or your best acts of love rejected, you have been forced to take a deep breath and let escape a painful sigh.
I realize there exists a sigh of relief, a sigh of expectancy, and even a sigh of joy. But that isn’t the sigh described in Mark 7. The sigh described is a hybrid of frustration and sadness. It lies somewhere between a fit of anger and a burst of tears.
The apostle Paul spoke of this sighing. Twice he said that Christians will sigh as long as we are on earth and long for heaven. The creation sighs as if she were giving birth. Even the Spirit sighs as he interprets our prayers. (Romans 8:22-27)
All these sighs come from the same anxiety; a recognition of pain that was never intended, or of hope deferred.
Man was not created to be separated from his creator; hence he sighs, longing for home. The creation was never intended to be inhabited by evil; hence she sighs, yearning for the Garden. And conversations with God were never intended to depend on a translator; hence the Spirit groans on our behalf, looking to a day when humans will see God face to face.
And when Jesus looked into the eyes of Satan’s victim, the only appropriate thing to do was sigh. “It was never intended to be this way,” the sigh said. “Your ears weren’t made to be deaf, your tongue wasn’t made to stumble.” The imbalance of it all caused the Master to languish.
So, I found a place for the word. You might think it strange, but I placed it beside the word comfort, for in an indirect way, God’s pain is our comfort.
And in the agony of Jesus lies our hope. Had he not sighed, had he not felt the burden for what was not intended, we would be in a pitiful condition. Had he simply chalked it all up to the inevitable or washed his hands of the whole stinking mess, what hope would we have?
But he didn’t. That holy sigh assures us that God still groans for his people. He groans for the day when all sighs will cease, when what was intended to be will be.
From God Came Near: Chronicles of the Christ
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1999) Max Lucado
by Max Lucado
Two days ago I read a word in the Bible that has since taken up residence in my heart.
To be honest, I didn’t quite know what to do with it. It’s only one word, and not a very big one at that. When I ran across the word, (which, by the way, is exactly what happened; I was running through the passage and this word came out of nowhere and bounced me like a speed bump) I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t have any hook to hang it on or category to file it under.
It was an enigmatic word in an enigmatic passage. But now, forty-eight hours later, I have found a place for it, a place all its own. My, what a word it is. Don’t read it unless you don’t mind changing your mind, because this little word might move your spiritual furniture around a bit.
Look at the passage with me.
Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. There some people brought a man to him who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man.
After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means, “Be opened!”). At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly. (Mark 7:31-35)
Quite a passage, isn’t it?
Jesus is presented with a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment. Perhaps he stammered. Maybe he spoke with a lisp. Perhaps, because of his deafness, he never learned to articulate words properly.
Jesus, refusing to exploit the situation, took the man aside. He looked him in the face. Knowing it would be useless to talk, he explained what he was about to do through gestures. He spat and touched the man’s tongue, telling him that whatever restricted his speech was about to be removed. He touched his ears. They, for the first time, were about to hear.
But before the man said a word or heard a sound, Jesus did something I never would have anticipated.
He sighed.
I might have expected a clap or a song or a prayer. Even a “Hallelujah!” or a brief lesson might have been appropriate. But the Son of God did none of these. Instead, he paused, looked into heaven, and sighed. From the depths of his being came a rush of emotion that said more than words.
Sigh. The word seemed out of place.
I’d never thought of God as one who sighs. I’d thought of God as one who commands. I’d thought of God as one who weeps. I’d thought of God as one who called forth the dead with a command or created the universe with a word … but a God who sighs?
Perhaps this phrase caught my eye because I do my share of sighing.
I sighed yesterday when I visited a lady whose invalid husband had deteriorated so much he didn’t recognize me. He thought I was trying to sell him something.
I sighed when the dirty-faced, scantily dressed, six-year-old girl in the grocery store asked me for some change.
And I sighed today listening to a husband tell how his wife won’t forgive him.
No doubt you’ve done your share of sighing.
If you have teenagers, you’ve probably sighed. If you’ve tried to resist temptation, you’ve probably sighed. If you’ve had your motives questioned or your best acts of love rejected, you have been forced to take a deep breath and let escape a painful sigh.
I realize there exists a sigh of relief, a sigh of expectancy, and even a sigh of joy. But that isn’t the sigh described in Mark 7. The sigh described is a hybrid of frustration and sadness. It lies somewhere between a fit of anger and a burst of tears.
The apostle Paul spoke of this sighing. Twice he said that Christians will sigh as long as we are on earth and long for heaven. The creation sighs as if she were giving birth. Even the Spirit sighs as he interprets our prayers. (Romans 8:22-27)
All these sighs come from the same anxiety; a recognition of pain that was never intended, or of hope deferred.
Man was not created to be separated from his creator; hence he sighs, longing for home. The creation was never intended to be inhabited by evil; hence she sighs, yearning for the Garden. And conversations with God were never intended to depend on a translator; hence the Spirit groans on our behalf, looking to a day when humans will see God face to face.
And when Jesus looked into the eyes of Satan’s victim, the only appropriate thing to do was sigh. “It was never intended to be this way,” the sigh said. “Your ears weren’t made to be deaf, your tongue wasn’t made to stumble.” The imbalance of it all caused the Master to languish.
So, I found a place for the word. You might think it strange, but I placed it beside the word comfort, for in an indirect way, God’s pain is our comfort.
And in the agony of Jesus lies our hope. Had he not sighed, had he not felt the burden for what was not intended, we would be in a pitiful condition. Had he simply chalked it all up to the inevitable or washed his hands of the whole stinking mess, what hope would we have?
But he didn’t. That holy sigh assures us that God still groans for his people. He groans for the day when all sighs will cease, when what was intended to be will be.
From God Came Near: Chronicles of the Christ
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1999) Max Lucado
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