Blog

This morning I was asking God again to give me a heart of prayer, that I would remember to be praying for my friends.  I was asking Him how should I pray?  The question echoed the disciples’ own question to Jesus on the subject, and the answer started running through my mind, “Our Father Who art in heaven.”

I went glibly past the daily bread part, and got stuck where I frequently get caught up, “and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”  As I went through the rest of my day, I have to admit the prayer never crossed my mind again, until I was praying for someone dear to me that evening.  She was struggling with a lack and needed her daily bread.  As I was praying for her it hit me.  Our daily bread.  Wait a minute, daily manna.  God’s sustenance for today.

Jesus wasn’t telling us to pray for God’s provision for tomorrow, He was teaching us that God’s provision is always today, now.  We can’t live anywhere but now anyway.  The disciples would have understood a lot sooner than I did.  They grew up with the knowledge of their forefathers gathering manna in the desert.  God’s grace literally dropped down like dew every morning.  They would have heard the stories of the ones who tried to gather more than their daily share and the disgusting results.  When I try to grab tightly to what I have been given for today in hopes of somehow keeping it for tomorrow, it slips through my grasping hands and I lose it the way the Israelites lost their stored manna.  Trying to hang on to today’s grace is me not trusting God to provide all over for me again the next day.

God knew from the beginning how short our memories are, how we need to rely on fresh grace every morning, fresh bread for our souls.  God knew how my heart can become stale and forgetful, how I need to learn over and over to pray, “Give me this day my daily bread.”

Matthew 6:9-13 “This, then is how you should pray: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.'”

Don’t you love the way it looks outside after it rains?  It is especially pretty out in the country.  The tree trunks become darker, more defined against the sky.  The moss on their bark brightens up as it soaks in the water.  It all reminds me of those paint with water pictures my children enjoy.  The ones with the faded looking colors that magically brighten with the swipe of a cotton swab dipped in water.

Sometimes our lives also need to be washed with water to bring out our deeper colors.  We may not even realize that our lives are a little faded, until God brings some rain into them.  This washing can come in many forms.  Sometimes it is the tears of grief that flow over our souls, bringing healing to our hearts.  Some days it can simply be the awareness of grace that God showers on us to brighten us and in turn cause us to shower grace on others.  We do not always get to choose how this cleansing will come, but we do know God is always with us even in the rain storms.

Baptism is one of the most beautiful pictures of this washing with water.  Baptism itself does not save us, it is an outward picture of what Jesus has already done in our hearts when we accept Him.  However, whenever we obey a command from Jesus there is a special blessing, a brightening, of our lives just like those paintings my children enjoy.  I just love the picture of being buried with Christ, (going under the water) and being raised to new life with Him, (coming back up out of the water.)

Isn’t that awesome?  Fresh, radiant life in Christ!  We do not have to go through life living faded, boring lives.  We can be washed daily in His grace and live exciting, vibrant lives in Him.

“But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.”  I Corinthians 6:11

As we were driving to church on Sunday, my youngest daughter discovered a crayon in her car seat.  Very soon, of course, she broke it in half.  She turned to her big sister and asked her to fix it.  Sister replied, “I don’t know how to fix a broken crayon.”  I immediately started mulling the problem over.  The only way I knew to fix a broken crayon would be to melt it down and re-mold it.

Ah yes God, are you talking to me before we even get to church?  I could see the picture so clearly.  Me, the crayon broken in pieces by someone’s hands who had not been gentle with my heart.  God saying the only way to “fix” it is to go through the fire to melt me down.  I think I remember something about this in the Bible, melting the impurities of sin out of us.  Then the re-molding of my shape, maybe this time into a shape even a little more like Jesus.

I will be a brightly colored new crayon again.  But new crayons don’t just sit in boxes.  They are used to make beautiful pictures.  Small artists drawing them across paper canvas and leaving some of their color behind.  God, I hope that is what you do with me too.  Draw my life across other’s, leaving some of my brightness on the canvas of their lives.

I know this process will go on my whole life.  Drawing and breaking, melting and molding.  I know I am safe in my Father’s hands.  I can come to Him with the broken pieces of my life and He will be gentle.

Sitting in church I smile to myself as the paster reads Ephesians 2:10, “For we are God’s masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.”  (Italics mine.)  I look around the congregation at us, the new crayons.  Each such a unique color, each adding such brightness to the world.  All of us, if we yield to God’s melting and shaping, ready to make masterpieces for Him.

“See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.”  Isaiah 48:10

Kids and band-aids.  I don’t know what it is about those little strips that make the worst, (or most insignificant) hurts better, but kids love them.  My youngest daughter uses so many band-aids that I have to hide them!  She does everything she can to convince me that the tiny little dot on her knee is worthy of bandaging. If she does find the box, she will quickly make a huge mess of wrappers everywhere and her tiny cut will be covered with multiple band-aids.

As most parents know, for kids it is usually a matter of distraction to make the pain better.  It is easier for them to focus on the band-aid rather than the wound.  As we grow into adults though, band-aids stop being a good cure, at least as far as our hearts are concerned.

I would guess most of us carry some sort of childhood wounds into adulthood.  Part of becoming a healthy adult is working to heal our hurts from the past.  Sometimes those things are so painful though, that we put “band-aids” on them instead of healing them properly.  These band-aids can take the shape of almost anything: work, substance abuse, shopping, eating, trying to control everything, (this is my band-aid of choice) etcetera.

It can be very difficult and scary to peel off a band-aid and really clean out an old wound.  Everyone knows just taking off a band-aid can hurt.  However, when we get to a point where staying where we are is more painful than the work we need to do to get healthy, we are ready.  At this point it is a great idea to enlist the help of a close friend to walk with you as you start to flush out the hurts.  Journaling is also a really great way to sort out the thoughts and feelings as they come up.  I have filled many journals over the years and it is really encouraging to go back and see how far I have come in my journey through life.

Yes, the emotional work can be difficult, but the rewards are worth it. God will be right there with us in the process if we invite Him in.  He will help us to uncover our brokenness so we can be made whole.

Psalm 147:3  “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”