Month: March 2018

Remembering in the Quiet

Posted on by Paula

I got up before the sunrise today and have been sitting in the dark and thinking. I have no idea how I even got through last week. There were so many things that needed taken care of, but by the end of the week, it was all one long blur. The busyness is now over, and so I sit in the dark and enjoy the quiet. I breathe peacefully, while the dog lies on my feet ensuring that I remain still for a while. As I get ready to begin a new week and anticipate a much lighter load, I think about Jesus and what this week held for him long ago…

Jesus knew it was his last week, yet he continued to put the needs of others above his own. He spoke the truth in love. He reminded the people of the difference between lip service that comes from knowing what God wants and true obedience that comes from knowing the Father and loving the Son. He humbled himself; the Master washed his disciples’ feet. He didn’t exclude the one who he knew would betray him. He prepared his closest followers for what was to come and spoke comforting words to let them know that it would be okay. Yet it was going to be difficult…

He knew what was coming that Thursday. He fell with his face to the ground and prayed to the Father three times asking if it was possible to take away the cup of suffering that he had been asked to drink. And though his soul was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground, his earnest prayers of anguish ended with, “Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

He was full of love, grace and compassion. He was a man of honor and truth. He healed the sick and gave sight to the blind. He was a friend to sinners, the poor and those who others shunned. There wasn’t a mean or selfish bone in his body. He spent his life serving those around him and doing the will of his Father. He never committed a single sin. He didn’t deserve this cup, but he knew that we were separated from God by our sin. He understood that the only way to get rid of our sin was by shedding the blood of a sinless man. There was no other way. He was willing to take the blame, willing to suffer, willing to die. He accepted the cup.

A large crowd arrived that night with clubs and swords. For thirty pieces of silver, he was betrayed with a kiss, and his closest friends deserted him. He was handed over for questioning, accused of blasphemy, spit on, beaten and ridiculed. He was completely innocent, but he didn’t defend Himself.

Then came Friday. Over and over, the whips beat upon his back until it became a mass of torn, bleeding tissue. He was stripped and dressed in a scarlet robe. A crown of thorns was twisted and placed on his head. They put a staff in his hand, knelt in front of him and mocked him, “Hail, king of the Jews!” They spit on him, took the staff and beat him on the head over and over. Then they put his own clothes back on him and led him away to be crucified.

As he hung on the cross, the people continued to mock him. “You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God! He saved others, but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’”

After hours of suffering, he cried out in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He cried out again, and then he gave up his spirit.

The kind, compassionate, loving, giving, completely innocent man died. The crowd deserved to die. I deserve to die; you deserve to die, but he is the one who took the punishment.

He was buried in a tomb. A stone was rolled in front of the opening, and guards were posted to ensure that no one took the body. It seemed like hope was gone, but that wasn’t the end of the story….

“After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.’” (Matthew 28:1-6).

Yesterday was “Palm Sunday,” and so this week we observe “Passion Week.” This is a time when we reflect on Christ’s passion for us and his passion to obey the Father, as He suffered and willingly gave his life to take away our sins. Jesus knew that the time was near and that the upcoming week would not be easy. Though he was praised as he rode into town on a donkey on Sunday, the praise would quickly turn to ridicule, torment and pain which would finally end with death on a cross. So we remember this week the things he said and did with only one week left before he would lay his innocent life down to die for us.

As we remember his passion for us, may we passionately worship him & proclaim the Good News of his death & resurrection to others. Jesus Christ died for our sin and has is risen! Do you believe?

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9).

Just as Jesus laid down his life for you, won’t you lay down your life for him? Turn away from your sin, turn to him and accept his gift of eternal life. Then share the Good News with others. Who do you know that needs to know the peace and hope that comes through him?

Beautiful Feet

Posted on by Paula

I’ve never really liked my feet. It’s extremely difficult to find shoes that fit properly because my feet are short and wide with squared off toes. The bottoms of my pinkie toes are squished into a point, and their nails don’t grow right. I also don’t spend much time taking care of my feet. So, my heels are usually cracked, and my toe nails usually look atrocious.

I’m ready for summer and flipflop weather, but at the same time, I’m not excited for my feet to be exposed for everyone’s viewing. In fact, as I prepare to take a photo for this blog, I wonder if I should take the time to trim and paint my nails to hide how bad they look.

At the beginning of staff meeting last week, our Campus Minister asked us to bring our phones into the auditorium. He had placed a mat with an Easter invitation on the floor. He told us each to take a photo of our feet on the mat and then post it to social media with #ChristsChurch #HopeForAll. Although I participated, I was a little disappointed that I hadn’t worn fancier shoes that day. At least my feet weren’t bare.

I watched all of the photos of our staff’s feet circulating around social media and thought about all the different shoes and the personalities that went along. A couple of days later, I noticed a post by someone outside of staff. Katie had come in for band practice and taken a photo of her feet on the mat. That’s when I was hit by the sweetness of the photo and what it meant. The words of Isaiah echoed in my mind,

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” ~Isaiah 52:7

I thought about each of the posts I had seen and all of the different feet. Each set of feet belongs to a person who has walked a unique journey. Each person could tell you about happy adventures their feet had taken them on, but each person could share stories about the trials and struggles along the way as well.

Whatever path each of us have taken, the one thing in common with all of those feet is that the people they belong to have chosen to follow Jesus and to proclaim his truth and love as they go. Every believer has a story to tell about the way Jesus has made a difference in their life.

It doesn’t matter if our feet look worn and neglected or if they are regularly pampered with pedicures. It doesn’t matter if we wear sparkly heels, leather boots or battered sneakers. What matters is if those feet are willing to go and to take the good news to share with others.

My heart is warmed each time I see a post with feet planted on the Easter invitation mat or a post of a hand holding an Easter invitation they will pass along. Each post reveals a person who has been impacted by Jesus in such a way that they can’t help but share his goodness with others.

God is pure and holy. He created each of us in his image, but we have all sinned by choosing to do things our own way instead of his. The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus. God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son to die on a cross and pay the penalty for our sin. This free gift of grace is offered to everyone no matter what they have done. We simply have to believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God and accept him as our Lord and Savior. In doing so, we repent of our sin, turning from our ways to his and following him. Through Jesus, we find forgiveness, salvation, hope and peace, and that is good news worth sharing.

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.’” ~Romans 10:14-15

Celebrating Week 52

Posted on by Paula

I have enjoyed writing for as long as I can remember. Growing up before the internet, I wrote hundreds of letters to pen pals, cousins who moved from country to country and friends I met at church camp. I was that kid in school who eagerly anticipated the next writing assignment. I dreamed of writing books full of poetry, stories and helpful ideas; I just didn’t know how to make those dreams a reality. So, when I entered the adult world, I decided to focus on other passions like becoming a wife, mother, cosmetologist, Sunday school teacher and volunteer. I even ended up on staff at a church somehow.

Although I have found great satisfaction in life no matter which one of those hats I happened to be wearing, I have always found ways to incorporate writing. As an adult, I have written letters to friends who moved away. I have made sentimental cards for my children and family. I have written lessons for my Sunday school students and even created a family devotional book in a 3-ring binder for them. As a volunteer, God has given me words to stir the hearts of others. I have even found ways to write in all the different roles I’ve had since being on church staff. Whatever my main job is, I always find a way to include my passion to write!

Another avenue I have found to feed my crave for writing is social media. I created a Facebook account nine years ago for the sole purpose of viewing some pictures a friend wanted me to see. I slowly eased into adding my own pictures and silly little posts. Then after a while, I began posting longer thoughts that came to me. I had found another outlet for my passion, and my friends encouraged me to continue. Some of them even suggested that I should write a book or start a blog.

I am not a confident person, but I do love to write. So, last year, I spent hours of googling information, watching YouTube videos and praying. Then one year ago today, I started a new adventure. On March 12, 2017 I became the proud owner of my own domain name and signed a contract with a web hosting company in hopes of building my own website and starting a blog. I didn’t understand a lot of the terminology and had no idea what I was doing. To be quite honest, I still don’t understand much about it. Yet somehow, things are up and running.

My website still needs a lot of improvement but has been working well enough to get my words out there into the cyber world. Today, I celebrate my 52nd consecutive week of publishing blog posts. There were weeks that I had no idea what to write and weeks when I was too tired to think, but I have consistently posted on every Monday except for one week in November. I waited until Tuesday that week so that I could post on the day my husband and I were celebrating our 30th anniversary. In addition to the Monday posts, I was even able to post daily through Advent.

Today I publish my 75th blog post. Over the past 52 weeks, I have written 49,000 words that have received views from 16 different countries. While a total of 3,216 views and 1837 visitors really isn’t a huge amount, it is pleasing to this woman who was scared that no one would be interested in what she had to say. My stats are fairly small, but I am content to know that each and every week, someone out there has read the words that I have faithfully posted.

This brings me to why I write. Besides the fact that I really enjoy letting my thoughts flow through my fingertips, I write because I want to encourage others. I want others to know that there is light in the darkness, that there is always hope and that there is a God who has been with me through my whole journey. My greatest pleasures as a writer, are the moments when God chooses to use me as his vessel to write the words that someone else needs to hear. Isn’t that what he created us for?

Whatever we do, it’s not about us. It’s about the One who knit us together in our mothers’ wombs, giving us passions, gifts and talents to use for his glory. We find our purpose when we take what God has given us and allow him to work through us to show others how awesome he is, how much he loves them and how much they need him.

I published that first post, “A Season of Gray Hairs and Discipline,” back on March 20, 2017 with the attitude that even if no one read the words, I would have spent time writing with God and allowing him to transform me through our time together. I write each week for God and the hope of inspiring others to spend more time working on their relationship with him as well.

Thank you to those of you who take the time to read “Through Every Season” and those who have subscribed to receive my posts. Thank you to those who have encouraged me and challenged me and given me the nudges I needed. Thanks for the feedback and for sharing the posts that speak to you. I don’t like to bring attention to myself but always hope to find ways to bring attention the One who is worthy. It’s all for him.

Peace Prevails, and It is Well

Posted on by Paula

There have been times in my life when I have felt like I was in the center of a tornado. The world was dark, life was out of my control and chaos swirled around me. Yet, as I stood there helpless and sometimes fearful of the outcome, I also had this unexplainable peace deep down inside.

One of the songs we often sang in church when I was growing up was, “It is Well with My Soul.”

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll

Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say

It is well, it is well, with my soul…”

As a child, I found it to be a beautiful and soothing song, but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I really understood. I remember the first time that the words clicked with me.

I was probably in my twenties when my dad had a mild stroke. He was pretty stubborn about going to doctors back then, and he seemed to be doing pretty good except struggling a bit with getting one of his arms and legs to cooperate all the time. Still, we worried about him.

I remember getting teary eyed as I stood next to Dad in church and listened to him sing. I love my dad a lot and admire his unshakable faith. But as I listened to him praising God despite the uncertainty of his health, I couldn’t find my own strength to sing along; I had to go outside. I was worried about my dad and what might be going on with him. I didn’t understand how God could let someone as wonderful as my dad have something wrong with his health. He was so young, he was one of the kindest men in the world and he had a bigger faith than anyone I knew.

Things were out of my control for sure, but Dad’s Godly example taught me that even when things are out of my control, I can trust God. While I worried, I witnessed my Dad experiencing a peace that passes all understanding.

As I continued looking to God through that storm and the future storms that followed, my relationship with Jesus grew. Over the years, God has been showing me that I can trust him and teaching me about the gift promised in Philippians 4:6-7,

We will experience dark, scary, difficult times in our lives. There will be times when our circumstances are out of our control. When we start to get anxious, we must pray instead of worrying. Through prayer, we experience that inner peace.

When we belong to Jesus, we have comfort in knowing that God is with us through each and every storm. We have faith that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). We have peace, knowing that “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). We have hope that one day he will take us home to a perfect place where there will be no more crying, pain or death (Revelation 21). When we put our trust in Jesus, no matter what our circumstances, we are able to say, “It is well with my soul.” It may be difficult, it may hurt, but deep down inside, his peace prevails.