No Greater Mercy

“There is no greater mercy that I know of on earth than good health except it be sickness; and that has often been a greater mercy to me than health.

It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it.

I am not so much afraid of the devil when he roars, as I am when he pretends to go to sleep. I think that, oftentimes, a roaring devil keeps us awake; and the troubles of this life stir us up to go to God in prayer, and that which looks to us ill turns to our good.

‘We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose’ (Romans 8:28 KJV).

C.H. Spurgeon, The Simplicity and Sublimity of Salvation, delivered June 5, 1892.

The Crud continues. It’s better but not gone. Still, I supposed little ailments like this one keep me from taking good health totally for granted.

I’ve heard that the Bible teaches us not to give thanks FOR all things, but to give thanks IN all things. Not everything that happens to us (or that we cause to happen) is good– sometimes, it’s downright evil or nasty– but God works in EVERYTHING for good.

I’d rather have all the creature comforts, but I know that sickness and trouble can wake me up from my spiritual stupor and get me on my knees faster than any material blessing ever could.

So I’m thankful for a little Crud. I’m thankful that it’s not any worse. I’ll be ever so much more thankful when all this coughing ceases, but if this is the worst that ever happens to me, I’m doing alright.

 

 

Love on a Tuesday Night

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Mike Glenn spoke about love tonight at Kairos.

No, it was not another sermon on dating or marriage or romantic love. It was about loving Jesus and what that looks like.

It looks like obedience.

As unpopular a term as that may be, obedience defines my love for Jesus. In other words, if I love Jesus, I do what He says. If I don’t do what He says, I don’t love Him, no matter how many warm and fuzzy feelings I get in a worship setting or how well I talk of Jesus or even how much I know about Him.

If I love Jesus, I will do what He says. I will obey Him. Not only when it’s easy or convenient or rewarding.

I think the gauge for my level of obedience is to ask those around me who know me best. Ask them if I really live out what I say I believe. Ask them if I look and act like Jesus on a daily basis.

I do know I fail to be grateful for being so blessed. I have so many people in my life who show me exactly what loving Jesus looks like in lifestyles that model obedience and faithfulness. I have so many people who love me with the love of Jesus and forgive me with a forgiveness that can only come from Jesus.

I don’t have to feed 5,000. I just have to give a cup of cold water to one. I don’t have to build a hospital in Kenya. I just have to visit one sick person or provide something to wear for one person in need. I just have to be faithful today, in this moment, to what I know Jesus is calling me to do and to be.

I don’t ever have any excuse to be disobedient to Jesus. No matter how my obedience is received, no matter how people disdain my efforts, no matter if anyone notices, I still am called to not only hear the words of Jesus, but DO them. To put them into practice. To live them out.

Like every fallible human saved by grace, I could do a lot better. But I’m thankful that ultimately the love that counts most isn’t my love for Jesus, but His unfailing love for me.

Jesus Is Your Peace

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This is just a reminder for those weary and worn ragamuffins who occasionally stray from the road and get lost in the dark from time to time. There’s always a Voice calling your name to lead you back. And the name of that Voice is the Prince of Peace.

When you’re tired and you can’t sleep, Jesus is your peace.

When the one you really like prefers someone else over you, Jesus is your peace.

When your spouse wakes up one morning and decides he or she doesn’t love you anymore and doesn’t want to be married to you anymore, Jesus is your peace.

When a friend whom you trusted hurts you and the wound goes deeper than pain, Jesus is your peace.

When your good intentions get maligned and people ascribe you malicious motives, Jesus is your peace.

When you have a week of Mondays at work and nothing seems to go right, Jesus is your peace.

When you’ve been out of work for months and begin to wonder if you even have anything worth offering to anybody, Jesus is your peace.

When you’re bending over a sick loved one and your only prayers are tears, Jesus is your peace.

When your child hovers between life and death and you are powerless to help, Jesus is your peace

Through whatever storms or calm, joy or sorrow, victory or defeat, gain or loss, Jesus has been, is, and will always be your peace.

Amen.

 

Getting Sick is Really Sick, Ya Know?

I had round 2 with sickness last night.

I spend much quality time near the porcelain throne, paying homage. It felt like I threw up everything I’d eaten since 2007. It was not a fun experience.

I still don’t know what caused it– whether it was food poisoning or a stomach bug– but I do know this: I’m happy to be on the other side of it, blogging from an upright position and not in a fetal position at the foot of the toilet.

I’ve had worse pain before in my life, but last night I felt like December 21 had come early and the Mayans were on target. I wanted my sickness to end. I would have given just about anything for my stomach to settle down.

Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.

I’m extra-thankful for good health tonight. It sometimes takes a little pain and illness to make you appreciate the good days. It takes a little rain to make you appreciate the days of sunshine.

C.S. Lewis once said that pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world. He whispers to us through our pleasures, but shouts in our pain. Otherwise, we’d get so caught up in the gifts and forget the Giver. OK, at least I would.

Here’s hoping to a good night’s sleep for me. Here’s hoping for an attitude of gratitude and thankfulness for all the small blessings we normally take for granted.

As my friend says all the time, “Life is good, God is great.”

‘Tis The Season . . . For the Common Cold

I may or may not be coming down with something. I’m not trying to catch a cold; I’m trying to avoid it if at all possible. I really don’t want to deal with being sick right now.

I had the flu last year, and I think once every five years is enough. I’d rather it be once every 10 years. Or never. That would be best.

But here I am, feeling blah, with a scratchy throat and an increasingly annoying cough. I won’t be running any marathons this weekend.

My usual course of action is to overdose on Vitamin C and drink lots of liquids. That has seemed to work in the past. It’s not 100% effective, but it sure is better than a cold.

That’s what happens when you live in Tennessee. It goes from spring-like to winter in less than a week. It’s rainy one day and sunny the next. All that adds up to colds and flus and general feelings of ickyness (that’s the scientific term for when there’s nothing actually wrong, but from the way you feel, there should be).

So forgive me if this feels mailed in. Creativity and blah don’t really mix that well. Hopefully in a couple of days I will be back to 100%. Then I will have no excuse for bad writing.

So be sure to keep hand sanitizer handy at all times and don’t drink after anyone who’s sick. Oh, and take two C’s and call me in the morning.

He giveth more grace (featuring a surprise guest blogger!)

Ok, not really. It’s still me, but I am including a bit of poetry (not mine) in this blog, because it so profoundly affected me when I heard it tonight at Kairos Roots. Here it is. May it affect you like it did me and make you more thankful and grateful to our great God! Here is her story and then her poem will follow (I copied and pasted her story. Shh! Don’t tell anyone!)

“Annie Flint was born in the Johnston home where she lost her mother, then shortly after lost her father too and was raised by the Flint family. After she graduated from college, she contracted arthritis in one of its most crippling forms and lay in bed for not one or two years, but for decades of her life. And if that wasn’t bad enough she lost control of her internal organs and to her utter embarrassment had to live on diapers for many years of her life. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough she began to become blind and cancer began to take its toll…according to one eyewitness, who wrote a book(called Making of the Beautiful), the last time he saw her, she had seven pillows cushioning her body from keeping the sores from inflicting indescribable agony.

In the midst of all that, she wrote this beautiful poem:

‘He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!'”

Annie Johnson Flint