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Pap’s Encouragement
Yesterday after church, our grandsons came over, and we spent most of the afternoon outside enjoying the sunshine and playing in the yard. At one point my husband needed to cut a tree off the shed that had fallen during the last storm, so he got a ladder so he could climb onto the shed roof and cut the tree off the roof. As soon as the ladder was up, Ben and Brooks, who are almost four and four, wanted to climb it too. Ben went first, and although he never said he was scared, about halfway up he started making his way back down. Paps could see he was afraid, so he stayed right beside him, talking to him and encouraging him to keep going. He showed him where to put his feet and reminded him that he could do it, and after a little encouragement Ben started climbing again and made it all the way to the top. When it was Brooks’ turn, he did the same thing. He climbed until he was about halfway up, then he stopped and started making his way back down. But unlike Ben, Brooks looked at Paps and said he was scared. Paps encouraged him just like he had encouraged Ben, reminding him there was nothing to be afraid of because he was right there beside him. He showed him where to put his hands and feet and stayed close to him until Brooks reached the top too. When they each reached the top of the ladder, both boys climbed back down, smiling and proud of themselves. Before long they were climbing the ladder again, and then again after that, and each time they did it with less fear until they were climbing it without being afraid at all. Later, I thought about how much we are like my young grandsons. At first they were afraid, and halfway up both of them wanted to make their way back down. But because Paps stayed beside them, encouraged them, and helped them keep going, they made it to the top. Then, when they climbed the ladder again, they were not afraid anymore because they had learned they could do what once seemed too scary. Isaiah 41:10 says, “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with My righteous right hand.” That is often how God works in our lives. We face something that feels too hard, too uncertain, or too frightening, and everything in us wants to turn back. But God stays beside us in the middle of our fear. He strengthens us, helps us keep going, and reminds us that we do not have to face it alone. As we trust Him and keep taking the next step, fear slowly begins to lose its hold on us. The situation may not change, but we do, because we have learned that God is faithful. What once seemed impossible no longer seems quite so frightening, not because we became strong on our own, but because we discovered that God had been helping us all along.
A Father’s Love
Yesterday morning while I was sitting in my truck studying and listening to music. The rain was falling when the garage door opened. My son-in-law came out and began loading his truck. He made several trips back and forth through the rain, carrying hunting clothes, boots, and supplies. He loaded his own things and everything his six-year-old daughter would need too, even her fishing pole and hunting gear. The whole time he was making those trips, he walked in the rain without an umbrella. When everything was finally loaded, he went back inside. A few moments later, they came out of the garage together. His little girl Avery walking beside him while he held a large black umbrella over both of them. He took her hand and walked her to the truck. Then he helped her climb into the backseat, making sure she stayed dry the whole time. As I watched them drive away, I could not stop thinking about how she trusted him and how amazing a father’s love can be. She did not have to worry about the rain. She did not have to wonder if everything had been packed or if they had forgotten something. She did not have to carry what was too heavy for her. Her daddy had already gone ahead of her. He had carried what she could not carry. He had prepared what she would need. And when it was time to walk through the rain, she simply walked beside him, holding his hand. That is what a loving father does. He notices what his child needs before she even thinks to ask. He carries what is too heavy. He protects what is precious to him. He stands in the rain so she can stay dry. Isn’t that so often what God does for us? So many times we spend our lives carrying things we were never meant to carry. We try to prepare for every possibility, protect ourselves from every storm, and figure out every detail before we take another step. We worry and we try to do it all ourselves. But our amazing God never asked us to carry what only He can carry. He goes before us. He prepares what we need. He carries the weight we were never meant to hold. And when we walk through difficult seasons, He does not send us out alone. He walks beside us and gently reminds us to take His hand. Isaiah 46:4 says, “I have made you, and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” The rain still comes. There are still storms, worries, and things we do not understand. But we do not have to walk through them alone. Just like my little granddaughter walking beside her daddy, we can trust the One who has already gone before us, who loves us more than we can imagine, who is carrying what we cannot, and who is holding us every step of the way.
“I Love”
A few mornings ago, I heard my husband singing parts of the song “I Love” by Tom T. Hall to our granddaughter. I’ve always loved the song. The words are so simple, and they rhyme so perfectly. They go something like this: I love little baby ducks, old pickup trucks, slow moving trains and rain. At its heart, the song is about contentment. It reflects a life that isn’t rushed or complicated, where value is found in what’s already around you. That’s why I love it. Listening to him sing brought back a memory of my father. When I was a little girl, my dad drove a fuel truck for a local gas company, delivering fuel to farmers throughout the county. On summer days, and on snow days when school was closed, I would sometimes ride with him. Those were days I looked forward to. Around lunchtime, we’d stop at a little country store along the way. My dad would buy me a Coke, always in a glass bottle, which made it feel like a real treat. He’d get a sandwich for us to share and some chips. We’d eat, then head back out. I was the oldest of eight kids, so time alone with my dad didn’t come often. Back in the truck, he would play “I Love.” Sometimes he sang parts of it to me, sometimes he just let it play. The song became part of those days, mixed in with the sound of the truck and the miles of road. And it wasn’t only in the truck. My dad sang that song at home too. Years later, when I got married, my husband loved that same song. He sang it to our children when they were young. Now he sings it to our grandchildren. It makes me think about faith in the same way. It’s often passed down quietly, through what we love and what we repeat, through what becomes part of our everyday lives. Long before children understand what we believe, they are learning what matters by what they see and hear again and again.
The Cross on My Radio Knob
Sometimes a small gift is enough to remind us of what matters, and God uses it in ways we do not expect, often through the kindness of a child. Sundays in Children’s Church are loud, messy at times, joyful and chaotic, and each week my prayer is that the kids are learning at least one thing, something they can use at this time in their life and a truth that will guide them throughout their lives. For several Sundays, we had been talking about sharing our gifts, about kindness, and about using what God has given us to show love and care for others. One Sunday, one of the girls came into class carrying a box and showed me that she had made crosses for every single kid. There were more than thirty of them, each one crocheted in a different color, and as she passed them out, I watched the kids smile and carefully choose the one they liked. As I watched her, I was reminded of the that each of us has received a gift and we are called to use it to serve (help) others. She did not make those crosses to be noticed or praised. She made them because she wanted to give, and in that simple act I saw the lessons we had been talking about come to life in the most real way. I hung the cross on my radio knob in our truck because I knew the time and care it took her to make every single one of those crosses. At first, it was simply a way to honor that gift and the thought behind it, a quiet reminder of how intentional her kindness was. But over time, it has become more than that. In the middle of busy days and everyday drives, that small cross has begun to remind me to slow down and choose kindness in how I respond to others, to be more patient, to give more grace and love, and it often brings to mind the truth; that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Every time I get into the truck, I notice that cross. It gently pulls my thoughts back to Jesus and the love He’s given me. I think about what He did for me on the cross, about how He loved me even when I was still a sinner. And I’m reminded how God uses small, thoughtful gifts to shape our hearts in ways we don’t always expect.
In the Quiet of the Night
I was reading John chapter 3:1-3, and one small line made me stop. It says that Nicodemus came at night to visit Jesus. I have read that verse before, but this time it caused me to stop and think. I started wondering why John even mentioned that it was night. Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a leader in the Jewish religion and many People respected him. If he had come to Jesus during the day, people would have noticed and talked. Coming at night meant he could come quietly, without being seen. Since he was a young boy, he had been raised in the Scriptures, trained in the law, highly educated, and lived inside religious routines every day. He knew Scripture, knew the law, and had spent his life doing what was expected of him. He went to worship and he prayed. From the outside, his life looked right. And yet he still came to Jesus with questions. When Nicodemus speaks to Jesus, he says, “We know.” He speaks from what is commonly believed and accepted, not from personal understanding. He recognizes Jesus as a teacher sent from God and points to the signs as proof that God is with Him, but he stops there. He does not say Messiah, and he does not say Savior. His words are respectful and careful, and they sound like the language of someone who knows about God but does not know the full truth. Jesus doesn’t ease into the conversation. He doesn’t talk about the signs or Nicodemus’s knowledge. He goes straight to the point and tells him that no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again. That had to be confusing for Nicodemus. You see he had the right background, right education, and lived a moral life. And Jesus is telling him that none of that gives him the ability to see. Being born again is not about checking off a list, being more disciplined, or trying harder. It is not about fixing ourselves. Our birth is not something we make happen. We had nothing to do with our first birth, and we have nothing to do with our second birth either. Both are given to us. Jesus is showing Nicodemus, and us, that new life with God begins with Jesus, not with us. Not our effort, our knowledge, or backgrounds. Jesus says, “that without being born again, no one can see the kingdom of God”, and that explains why religion can sometimes feel empty or unclear even when we feel like we are doing all the right things. We can attend church, read our bible, avoid drinking, smoking, cussing, and even pray, yet still feel like something is missing. It is not always because we are doing something wrong, but because seeing requires new life, not more effort on our part. So the question is, how does someone become born again? It does not begin with trying harder or doing better, or by becoming more religious. It begins when we recognize that we cannot save ourselves and that our good efforts, background, and knowledge are not enough. Being born again happens when we believe in Jesus Christ as our Savior, trusting that His death and resurrection are what bring us new life and finally allow us to see. It is a turning of the heart away from self-reliance and toward complete dependence on Jesus. Just as we had nothing to do with our first birth, we have nothing to do with our second birth either. New life is given by God through Jesus, and it is life we could never produce on our own. When we put our trust in Jesus, our vision begins to change and we start to see things differently. The same Scriptures in the Bible speak in a new way, and grace feels real. Jesus becomes more than a teacher we respect Jesus becomes our Savior we depend on. Nicodemus came to Jesus with religion, and Jesus offered him life, and He still meets people the same way today, often in the darkness of the night, offering new life and eyes that can really see the Kingdom of God.
A Distraction
Yesterday morning, I woke up early and decided it was finally time to clean the floors in my house. With a month in New York City, long work hours, Christmas projects taking over, and just life, they had been neglected for a while. Not because I didn’t care, but because there was only so much energy to give when life keeps moving. The furniture was moved and every corner swept, and in the process the canister was packed multiple times; physical proof of how long the floors had been ignored. When the sweeping was finished, I pulled the floor cleaner out of the closet to clean the floors more thoroughly. The pieces were put together, but when it came time to attach the part where the dirty water goes, it would not fit. Several attempts were made, even trying to force it. When I finally stopped and looked closely, it became clear that a small filter piece was missing. It is not a big piece, maybe two inches by one inch tall, but it is essential because it allows the canister to attach to the vaccum. Without it, nothing would work. The search began for where it might have been placed and with my personality, that meant it could be anywhere or nowhere. Drawers were checked, along with the space under the kitchen sink, which quickly turned into cleaning and organizing that cabinet. The cabinets above the sink was next, the piece was not there either, but things were out of place, so they were cleaned and reorganized as well. Other parts of the house were searched and straightened too. Once the distraction started, there was no going back. After spending far more time cleaning other things than actually searching for the missing piece and finishing what had been started, I decided to put the cleaner away in the bathroom closet where it belongs, the energy I had started with was had run out, and it was time to start work. As the cleaner was set down, something on the floor caught my attention. The missing piece was sitting right where the cleaner had been pulled out earlier. I had looked there at the beginning, but somehow missed it, maybe because it was dark. As the day went on, God kept bringing my attention back to how easily I had gotten distracted and could not stop thinking about it. Getting distracted is not new for me. With my ADHD brain, it happens often, and there is a constant need to refocus and work hard to stay present with what is right in front of me. But as I reflected on the morning, it felt like God was speaking directly to my heart, showing me something I needed to hear in my spirit. “Faith, there are times when you start your morning wanting to spend time with Me, fully intending to sit, slow down, and be present. But then something else slowly pulls your attention away. It might be something you notice, your phone, a person, social media, or a task that feels urgent in the moment. One thing quietly leads to another until, before you realize it, you have done everything except the one thing you meant to do. Spending time with Me.” See what pulls me away often feels small and harmless at first, almost unnoticeable. The day slowly fills up, and before I realize it, have moved on without ever really spending time soaking in His Word, praying, or sitting quietly in His presence. Sitting with all of this, it became clear what God was gently revealing. It was not about the floors or the missing piece, but about how easily attention drifts and how quickly time with Him can slip away if it is not guarded. Those distractions may feel small and harmless in the moment, yet they quietly add up, allowing the day to move forward without ever coming back to Him. Time with Him does not disappear because we do not care, but because it is not always protected. The day does not steal it all at once. It slips away piece by piece, until many things are done, yet the one thing the heart needed most is missed.