The Right Answer

George shuffled through the assortment of resumes on his desk, feeling both frustration and apprehension.

Frustration because running his small business was hard enough, and now apprehension because he had to find the right person for this job opening. It was an important position - but also unusual because the main qualification was that the person had to be a creative thinker. Not everyone had the ability to "think outside the box" as the saying went, but it was vital in this position.

Yet he was so desperate that George had decided that the best way to select the right person was to base his decision on each applicant’s answer to one particular question.

George looked up to see the first applicant come in. The man was thin, wearing thick-rimmed glasses and carried a leather brief case. He perched on the chair opposite George.

"I see you're a mathematician." George looked up. The man nodded. "Before we start I want to ask you a question I'm asking all the applicants. What's two plus two?”

The man responded immediately. “That's easy. Two plus two is four.”

After a brief interview, George called in the next applicant. This man was tall and thin with piercing eyes glaring out from under a wrinkled brow. George saw that he was a statistician. He got the same question.

This man thought a moment. ”Now the sum of two plus two lies somewhere between three and five so I’d say that the probability is 100 percent that the answer is four.”

The third applicant was a tall man with a broad smile, clad in a well-tailored suit. Before he took his seat, he leaned over the desk to take George's hand in a firm grip.
"I see you've held several local public offices." George told him. "I guess we might call you a politician?"

"I prefer public servant." The man's smile broadened.

"Well, here's the question I'm asking all the applicants. What's two plus two?"

The man thought a few seconds about the question, then sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He cocked his head, and asked. “What do you want it to be?”

That last fellow was certainly ready to provide the answer George wanted, but unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way with God. Therefore, that means I don’t always get the answer I want, and in fact, many times his answer is “No.”

I might have sought release from a struggle, or asked for something or for a change in my life, but because he knew my request would be harmful to me, he denied my request. Yet no matter what he denies, or his reasoning, I can be sure that his purposes are as perfect as his character.

Unexpected Asset

Henry brushed the dust off his trousers and straightened his tie, then stepped out the front door of the store hoping he was neat enough to make a good impression on someone who he hoped to see. However, looking neat was not easy since there was so much dust from the unpaved street - dust that swirled up everywhere, particularly when the horse drawn buggies clattered by. He knew girls like Mary Jones liked neatness in a gentleman caller but they also expected them to be a hard worker.

That second part was easier because he had a good job at the store owned by his friend Mitchell. Still, he wanted to get to know people and especially some of the pretty young ladies he’d seen. .

"You’ll have a hard time asking to call on any of those girls," Mitchell advised Henry when he inquired about it. “This is a small town and people around here are very strict with their daughters. They want to make sure any potential suitors aren’t just decent, but have the right financial prospects and connections.”

"How about Mary Jones?" Henry asked, "How can I get to see her?"

"Won’t be easy.” Mitchell warned him. "Her father's the bank president and he's the strictest of all of them.” Then he paused as he thought of something. If Henry could call on Mary, then begin courting her and then get married, he'd probably settle in town, and then Mitchell wouldn't have to find a new store clerk for quite a while.

"Maybe I can help you,” Mitchell told Henry, "I know Mr. Jones slightly so I’ll see what I can do. But let me ask you something. Would you cut off your nose for a million dollars?”

“Of course not!” Henry replied.

“I thought so,” Mitchell said. “I’ll let you know about calling on Mary.”

Later Mitchell met briefly with Mr. Jones. “Say, have you met my store clerk Henry? He’s been with me just a few months but I’ve known him for some years. In fact, I’m even thinking of making him a partner.”

“I don’t think I know Henry.” Jones responded. “What is his financial status?”

“I do know that he recently turned down a million dollars for one of his assets.” Mitchell told him. Jones seemed impressed.

A few days later when Henry wrote the proper note of introduction to Mr. Jones asking to call on Mary he received a warm response. Soon they were courting, and within the year, Henry and Mary were engaged, then married and Mitchell lost his potential partner to a bank officer position.

Though he probably didn’t know exactly how it happened, Henry certainly benefited from an unexpected asset and it’s often the same on my spiritual journey. The asset I discover God’s loving provision and care and what’s unexpected is how and when I experience it.

What often happens is that I have an apparently unsolvable problem, and then just as it all seems hopeless God provides a solution. He might change the circumstances, or the people involved, or maybe he even changes me. Yet not matter how you do it, it’s a solution I hadn’t anticipated. Indeed, an unexpected asset – for my benefit and his glory.

Hearing The Voice

“I suppose it’s a good idea.” Joyce said to Mary at the church office where they worked. “I just hope I can do it.”

“Up till now we’ve always just said the name of the church, when we answer the phone, but now what have they changed it to?” Mary replied.

“It’s ‘Community Church, God loves you, this is Joyce speaking. May I help you?’” There was a pause. “That’s an awful lot to say.”

Joyce returned to work as the calls came during the day she tried to answer in the new way. Then late in the day as the work piled up the phone rang. She reached over the stack of growing paperwork to scoop up the receiver to blurt: “Community Church, Joyce loves you, God speaking. May I help you?”

The voice on the other end was hesitant. “Gosh, I’m glad to know it’s you, Lord, but somehow I expected your voice to sound different.”

Obviously, God doesn’t answer phones but we know he does communicate with us and he can do it in any number of ways. He might “speak” to us through events, what we read or even through the words of those around us. In addition, often he uses us to speak to others, and that’s a serious challenge.

It’s also a responsibility to know he might be using us to pass along his message through what we say or what we do. Yet to do that it’s important that we stay close to him so we make ourselves ready and available.

One Morning In A Garden

The spring sun was just peeking over the Jerusalem hills as the small group of women silently trudged along on their lovingly necessary errand. Besides the fragrant spices they carried, they also bore something else - a desperate sense of gloom and loving grief for their beloved Teacher.

Just hours before they had watched from a distance as he was marched out of the city by the hated Roman troops, made to carry the rough-hewn crossbeam of his own execution devise, was nailed to it, then lifted up. Then came the taunters. “You’re supposed to be the Son of God!” They railed at Him. “If you are then come down! You’ve got the power!” They sneered.

But the Teacher did not descend. Huddled a distance away, the women formed a lonely group as they trembled and watched, their dedication to him overcoming their fear. By that time, besides the women and one man named John, the only witnesses were the curiosity seekers, and the soldiers going about what they saw as a routine execution.

The women remained there until the Teacher was dead then they joined others who loved him as they removed the body and lovingly carried it to the nearby tomb for a hasty burial. Because the Sabbath was approaching, they hurried to wrap the Teacher’s body in the traditional burial cloths, and then hurry home before sundown. Then after the Sabbath ended early on that morning, the women set out toward the tomb intending to finish the burial process they had started. It would only take a few moments to enclose the traditional spices within the burial wrappings as a final loving tribute.

Yet as they hurried toward the tomb, they had a nagging concern. How could they remove the heavy stone that covered the door to the tomb? They knew how heavy it was since they’d seen the massive round flat stone disc fitted into a groove and rolled to cover the door of the tomb. So who would roll it aside? They were still worried as they entered the garden area where the tomb was located. Yet as they approached, they realized the tomb door was rolled aside.

Confused and puzzled the women stepped closer, then bent to peer into the cave.

The stone ledge was empty. Where was the body? The wrappings were still shaped as they had been when they enclosed the body but now they held – nothing!

Yet the tomb wasn’t entirely empty – because the women abruptly sensed the presence of two undeniably ethereal figures. The women fell back in amazement as one spoke: “He isn’t here! He told you He would rise and He has! Go tell Peter and the others!”

In shocked surprise the women hurried away to follow instructions.

Once told, Peter and the others returned to the now empty tomb where they also saw the empty wrappings, and like the women, turned away, puzzled, confused and overwhelmed.

A short time later Mary Magdalene returned to the garden to find the scene unchanged, the stone still rolled aside. Then as she stood before the empty tomb, her confusion became overwhelming and she felt tears trickling down her cheeks. What did it all mean? She saw the beloved Teacher die, and now all his wonderful promises and every hope he offered had died with him. Now even the body was gone. Where was it? Had the Romans…?

“Why are you crying?”

She started, blinking back her tears.

She whirled to see through a vaguely formed figure through her misty eyes. Who was this? Then she knew it – it was logical - this had to be the garden caretaker. Maybe he’d taken the body!

“Mary!”

But how would the gardener know her name? But wait – could it be?

“Teacher!” Her voice was a breathless whisper, as she fell at the feet – the nail-pierced feet – of the man she’d seen crucified so brutally. She lifted her eyes to his, and there was a slight smile on his lips and in his eyes. “Lord!”


Like Mary when I lose hope and purpose, I become puzzled and confused. Yet when I pause and wait, I feel his presence, just as Mary did. For I know the same Teacher and Lord Mary encountered is alive today just as He was then in the garden. And as he did with Mary he gives me the reassurance of His presence, just when I need it. “He is not dead, but risen!”

When The Fog Lifted

The story goes that in June, 1815 the British nation awaited word of the battle that was waging across the Channel in Belgium where the Duke of Wellington was leading an army of allies against Napoleon. Arrangements had been made to get the latest news of the battle. Messengers would come by ship to the English coast, and then the news would be forwarded by the use of semaphore flags wig-wagged over the miles to London. There from the height of the Winchester cathedral semaphore flags would signal to a crowd that had gathered to await the news.

On June 18, the long awaited news arrived, and the signal flags began to spell out the message: “Wellington Defeated.” However, just as the anxious crowds waited for the remaining letters to be flashed, a sudden bank of fog descended and they could see no more.

Wellington defeated! Was that the message? It seemed to be and soon the word spread. All hope was gone! And so it seemed until the fog lifted and they saw the rest of message: “Wellington defeated – the enemy!” Their gnawing misery had turned to joy. Defeat had become victory

Likewise, the disciples felt a genuine sense of loss and gloom as they saw their Master buried and his tomb closed. Defeat seemed assured. Yet they were like the people who only received half the message. On the first day of the week, they got the other half of the news when the stone was rolled away. Defeated? At first, it would seem so, but just a few hours later came the rest of the message. When the fog lifted.

Not Present

The story goes that a young college student decided to try something funny when her French professor called the roll in her class.
The usually procedure was that students were to respond to their name with Ici (“Here”) or “Present” when their name was called. However, this time when the professor called the roll the student responded: “Je ne suis pas ici.” – (“I am not here.”)
That’s silly of course but though the statement was grammatically correct it’s just not logically possible.
After all, how can you say you’re not somewhere when you’re really there? In short, how can you say you’re not here when you are?
Yet such a statement perfectly illustrates what Easter means. Suppose Jesus had said, “I am not here” - while standing in front of the empty tomb. If he had then that would have implied that he should be in there. Yet he wasn’t there in the tomb—and in our Christian faith. That makes all the difference!

Who Are You?

Susan sighed and glanced up from her computer at the airport counter to take in the crowds of travelers lined up in front of her.

As an airline-ticketing agent, Susan was quite accostomed with crowds, but these were larger than usual. It had all started a few hours earlier with bad weather on the east coast, which delayed some flights and cancelled others and of course that meant many arriving passengers had missed their connecting flights and needed to rebook. The line in front of the counter wound across the concourse and inched forward as an agent finished with one passenger and then called the next in line. Many passengers were deep in conversation on cell phones, their luggage on the floor beside them, and as the line inched forward, they moved with the line, nudging their bags forward with their foot.

Susan handed her latest customer his paperwork and he left the counter. Despite the heavy pressure filled atmosphere, he’d been pleasant as if he understood everyone was frustrated and were trying to do their best.

“May I help you?” Susan called to the next man in line, but suddenly from further back in the line, another man charged forward, ducking around those in front of him to charge up to the counter, pulling his carryon bag beyond him. Just as those in line behind him began to object, the line cutter reached the counter where he slapped his papers on the counter. “I have to be on the next flight and it has to be in first class!” He snapped.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Susan replied, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. “I’ll be happy to try to help you but there were several people in line before you. If you’ll go back and get in line I’ll help you when it’s your turn.”

The line cutter’s face acquired a red tinge that began behind his ears and spread to his cheeks. He pounded a fist on the counter and bellowed loudly. “Do you know who I am?”

Susan could feel the eyes of the crowd turn toward her and the irate man. She could sense their curiosity at the situation, and their anticipation of what she would do. Meanwhile, the passengers the man had bypassed were beginning to whisper and shuffle around.

Susan sighed deeply and she could feel a twinge of an idea flicker into her mind. Should she try it? It was contrary to anything she’d been taught but – aw, why not?

Susan picked up her PA mike. “May I have your attention please?” She announced. “We have a passenger here who doesn’t know who he is. If anyone can help him find his identity please come forward.”

Susan certainly used a unique approach to her difficulty, but she did ask an interesting question. Do you really know who you are – in a spiritual sense? Are you a confident, assured and trusting believer, stepping out into life with faith and trust in God and in his care and provision? On the other hand, are you a shrunken cowering and fearful believer who slinks through life in trepidation at any new challenge?

Indeed, who are you - spiritually?

The Example Is Us

“Now what can I do for you, Sir?” The pet shop owner met Henry at the front counter.

“I want to get a parrot.” Henry said.

“Okay, I’ve got some beautiful birds for sale. Come back here and I’ll show you want I have.”

Henry followed the pet shop owner to the back of the store where the exotic birds were displayed in large cages. Henry glanced around, and his gaze fell on a beautiful green and yellow bird.

“How about that one? He’s beautiful. I think I’ll take him.”

“He’ll make you a great companion, but I do have to warn you. I got him from a guy who swore a lot and he’s picked up some bad language.”

“That’s okay,” Henry replied. “I use some bad language once in a while myself and I’m a bachelor so I don’t have to worry about children. I’ll take him.”

Henry took the parrot home, and while he was a great pet, he discovered that the parrot’s vocabulary was far spicier than Henry had anticipated. A warning seemed to be in order.

“You swear once more and I’m going to do something drastic!” He scolded but it wasn’t long before apparently the parrot forgot and came out with some unusually particularly filthy words. Henry decided to teach the bird a lesson, so he snatched him out of his cate and popped him into the freezer.

The bird began squawking but after a few seconds, the noise died down. Henry opened the freezer to reveal the shivering parrot. He was shaken, but unharmed.

“I’ll do that again if there’s any more swearing,” Henry warned him as he replaced the bird in his cage.

“I’ve learned my lesson, Boss,” said the parrot. “But I’ve got one question.” He gestured back at the freezer. “If you don’t mind my asking, that chicken in there - what did that he do?”

Did you know that we have something in common with frozen chickens and that’s when we serve as examples! And it happens when someone sees what we see and do and learns a lesson.

Did you ever think of it that way? Did you ever consider that how you respond to your spiritual struggles may be exactly the example someone else needs to see? Moreover, serving as that example may be one reason why you’re struggling.

After all, it’s normal to want to know why we have problems, but one reason may be that God needs to teach us something that will only be learned by struggling in this particular way. In addition, part of his purpose may be that we’ll demonstrate what we’ve learned to someone who’s having the same difficulty and also needs the lesson. After all, when we trust God for answers and continue to serve him despite the problem then others may realize that they should follow our example. Of course this works in reverse and we may demonstrate the wrong way to handle the problem!

You may have never thought of yourself as being an example to others but with God’s help, you can be!

Seat Change

Shifting her designer tote bag over her shoulder, Mrs. Jerome settled into the airplane window seat. Then after she extracted her cosmetic bag, and had repaired her makeup, she settled back to think.

What a time for her sister Edith to have that stroke! And why did they ask Mrs. Jerome to come when she could have hired a nurse? Now she’d have to miss George’s annual law firm dinner, and since all the senior partners and their wives would certainly be there. she’d miss a chance to impress them. It was so unfair! After all, there was a senior partner vacancy coming up and surely, all she’d done her would greatly increase his chances. And hers.

Still, it hadn’t been easy since it required just the right outfits from the best stores, the regular hairdresser appointments and most important, having the right friends. Yes, it certainly helped if you mingled among the affluent and influential. Certainly not like the ones around her there in the economy section where she had to travel.

Oooo-that was galling! I should be up in first class, thought Mrs. Jerome, where the right people traveled. Still, though the Jerome budget couldn’t handle it – yet - that would certainly change when Mr. Jerome got his partnership.

At least she didn’t have to sit next to someone low class. But wait... Oh, no! A new arrival!

Effie Temple paused beside Mrs. Jerome’s seat. Clutching her large black leather purse, she slowly sat down in the aisle seat and clicked her seatbelt. As she did so, she became aware of the elaborately dressed middle-aged lady in the window seat. Though Effie kept her eyes down as she waited for takeoff, her mind was busy pondering her upcoming journey.

Yes, Fred and his family needed her and they wanted her to come. After all, new fathers can be so helpless when a new baby’s on the way, Effie thought, and though Tina would be a very good mother, she still would need extra help with a new baby. And Jim would have been so proud of their first grandchild!

The memory of her late husband made her eyes mist. He’d been such a good man and he’d worked so hard to support them. Still, though they’d never been rich and there’d been hard times, they’d had a good life. Yet even now, Effie didn’t have extra money and she wouldn’t be traveling like this if Fred and Tina hadn’t sent her the ticket.

Then as she emerged from her reverie, and noticed her seatmate, Effie couldn’t shake the sense that the lady wasn’t happy at her arrival and presence.

Just then, Effie looked up to see an approaching flight attendant to stop to lean over to speak to Mrs. Jerome.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to fasten your seatbelt. We’re getting ready to take off.”

However, before she moved on, Mrs. Jerome beckoned her closer and spoke in a harsh but audible whisper. “Obnoxious person…can’t sit here…have connections…Find me another seat…”

The flight attendant straightened, her mouth a thin line, and as she did so, her gaze took in Effie. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The attendant returned to the front of the plane, still checking seatbelts, as Mrs. Jerome clicked her belt together and stared straight ahead.

Effie kept her gaze down and clutched her handbag, but she felt her cheeks tingle from the vibrations of the unspoken hostility from the next seat. After the plane took off and the flight attendant returned to take drink orders. Mrs. Jerome asked again, “Have you arranged it?”

“I’ll have to talk to the captain, ma’am. We’re almost completely full and there may not be anything available.” Then the attendant headed toward the front of the plane where she picked up the intercom phone to the cockpit. A few seconds later she replaced the receiver then returned to Effie’s seat. She leaned over to speak to Mrs. Jerome.

“We’re very sorry you’re not happy with your seat,” the attendant said. “We certainly don’t want you sitting next to a person you consider unacceptable. Though we’re full I did find a seat in first class.”

Mrs. Jerome’s tight grimace began to become a simper as the attendant turned to Effie. “Now if you’ll get your things together, ma’am, we’ll move you up front.”

“But many that are first shall be last; and the last first.” (Mark 10:31, KJV)

Showing The Way

Following The Path

“But why don’t you go over to the park and use what they call the hike and bike trail,” Nancy asked.

“That would be boring. I don’t want to walk round and round in a circle.”

“It’s not like that. The path starts in the park but then takes you along the creek then behind some houses and ends up at a lake. You do cross some streets but that’s all. It’s paved all the way, there are mile markers and it’s maintained and patrolled by the county. It’s a safe route; you know where you’re starting and where you’ll end up. Better than the street. You ought to try it.”

Just as Sarah wanted to find a route that was sure and safe, in a spiritual sense so do we, as we seek a safe and secure life path. For on both our walking path or our life path we want the security of knowing where we’re going, and where we’ll end up, and that there will be no surprises or unexpected detours. .
.
The Psalmist used the image of comparing our following God's will to walking a secure path. So as we “walk” in God’s will then we need never be confused or insecure Though we may not always know where the path leads, we know we are safe while we follow it, and we know where and how it ends – with him.

Are you staying on the path of God's will?

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying: 'This is the way, walk in it.'" Isaiah 30:21 (NIV)

Rearrangement

Jim wasn’t sure which he dreaded more – being asked to carve the meat at a dinner party (after all, weren’t surgeons honored to be asked to carve?) or to have the host do the carving and deliver a running commentary on how similar carving was to surgery. Of course, some of his friends didn’t do either but Jim couldn’t expect that from the host at the next dinner he was to attend.

No, for while Fred was a jovial, exuberant sort and went out of his way to welcome his guests, he still felt he had to nudge them if he could. Put simply – Fred was a tease. Therefore, when Jim accepted a dinner invitation to Fred’s home he knew what would happen. But this time Jim was ready.

That evening as Jim and the other guests took their seats at Fred’s dinner table, the turkey that was to be their main course was already in place at Fred’s seat. The host proudly took his place in front of the crispy-skinned glistening golden bird and prepared to carve.

With a dramatic flourish, Fred scraped the carving knife on the sharpening tool, then picked up the matching fork and began to slice. He speared the first slice with the fork and laid it on the serving platter.

“How am I doing, doc?” Fred grinned at Jim then resumed his slicing. Again, the knife slipped through the turkey breast and another portion came free and was laid beside the other.

“How’s my technique?” Fred grinned even more broadly at Jim.

After a few moments and with further slicing, Fred finished and the slices of turkey breast were layered perfectly on the platter. “How’s that look, doc? I’d make a pretty good surgeon, don’t you think?”

Jim returned the grin. “Anybody can take them apart, Fred. Now let’s see you put them back together again.”

Fred should have realized he didn’t have the skill of an expert and sometimes that’s something I have to learn in a spiritual sense. It usually occurs when I try to serve God and get into a situation I can’t handle. It might have happened because I’ve created my own area of service for him, or perhaps I deviate from his plans for me and go off on my own. However, no matter what it is, what usually happens is that I get bogged down, encounter unforeseen difficulties and of course get nowhere. When that happens, I can only ask him for help. Then I watch him set it all right and direct me back into his service with a new realization and awareness of the character of the God of second chances.

Over Marked

With a frustrated sigh, Althea gazed at her calendar and considered what to do.
It had been a busy and hectic week with a myriad of activities that had pulled her in all directions, and now she had a chance to sit down and check out her upcoming commitments. As a busy interior designer, Althea prided herself on always being in control and her forgetting this event was irritating because it implied she didn’t know what she was doing.

Why had she ever accepted that wedding invitation? Who were these people? She certainly didn’t know the bride but after more thought, Althea remembered the connection. The mother of the bride was a real estate agent and since Althea often got her best client referral from agents, she had accepted the invitation to court new business. After all, when someone had just purchased a home they’d naturally want to redecorate and who better to ask for a referral than the agent they’d just worked with?

So because she wanted to impress the mother and maybe get referrals, Althea needed to come up with an unforgettable wedding gift. But what could it be? Maybe something expensive and of fine quality? That would do it, but since the wedding was next week and she didn’t have time to go shopping, she had to think of something fast. Then she remembered the silver tray.

It had been a wedding gift from her former mother in law, and Althea remembered how grateful she was to get rid of that woman as well as her deadbeat son. They’d both been so cheap and grasping – and it was a part of her life she didn’t like to remember. Yet though she never liked the woman, the gift was an elegantly carved tray with her engraved monogram. She could take the tray to a local silversmith who could scrape off the monogram, replace it with the bride’s, and she’d not only make a great impression on the bride’s mother but she’d also get rid of a souvenir of an unpleasant past.

Althea headed for the china cupboard, reached back behind some antique dishes to extract the tray, and soon she was on her way to the silver shop to drop off the tray with complete instructions.

Her problem presumably solved, Althea returned to business. The next morning she was deep in concentration on a design for a recent client when the phone rang. It was the silversmith.

“Yes, I wanted the old initials removed and the new monogram put on. Is there a problem with that?” Althea impatiently repeated her instructions.

The silversmith’s voice was also impatient. “Look, lady, what you wanted – it can only be done so many times!”
That tray was certainly useless for its intended purpose because of what had happened in the past, but that’s never a problem with God when it comes to how he regards our previous failures.

It’s so easy to think that because we’ve failed God in some way, or because of some reoccurring fault, that we can’t serve God. We can’t help but believe that the taint that comes with these failures or faults contaminates us in such a way that prevents God from ever using us in his service.

Yet that’s not how God thinks. Because we’re human we are going to fail, but God in his grace and mercy has provided a way to not only remove any taint of failure or fault and then forgive and forget it. Then when this happens, we start anew with a faultless status – a reassuring reality that lets us step out to serve him because we know that failure is not final.

End Of Problem

Bill wiped off the counter of his snack bar as he scanned the beach and looked for customers. He’d been busy that day at his lemonade since it had been hot. Still, just as he was about to close up a man stopped up to the counter and ordered lemonade. Bill filled the paper cup from the cooler and set it back down. The man paid, and then picked up the cup.

“Splash!”

The lemonade hit Bill right in the face, sending him back a few steps, gasping and sputtering.

“I’m so sorry!” The man put down the now empty cup and whipped out a handkerchief to offer it to Bill. “You see, I have this uncontrollable compulsion to do it,” he explained. “And though I fight it but I still do it and I always feel so guilty afterward. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Bill spurned the handkerchief and instead reached for a paper towel, swabbed his face and then glowered at the man. “Well, all I can tell you is that you’d better do something about it before you come back.” The man bowed his head as Bill continued. “I don’t mean to be unkind but I just can’t serve you again till you solve your problem.”

The man turned away and disappeared in an oncoming crowd of beach strollers.

Over the next few weeks, Bill didn’t see the lemonade tosser but he hadn’t forgotten the incident. Then one day when Bill looked up to see his next customer, he saw the strange man again.

“Oh, no!” Bill told him. “I told you not to come back!”

“But I’m cured!” The man explained earnestly. “I’ve been to a psychiatrist and I solved my problem.”

Slightly reassured Bill decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and served him lemonade.

“Splash!”

This time Bill swabbed his face with his sleeve as the man now lowered the cup. “I thought you said you were cured.”

“I am.” The other replied. “I still throw the lemonade, but I don’t feel guilty about it.”

That fellow figured he’d solved his problem by changing his attitude and that’s sometimes how God helps me when I seek his assistance when I have a problem. It can occur when God helps me not by changing the situation but altering my attitude toward it. He might give me the strength to handle the difficulty so it’s no longer a real problem. Or maybe he helps me see it as an opportunity to grow and serve him and I come to see it as a challenge instead of a struggle. Yet no matter how he does it, he solves my problem by leaving the situation as it is but changing me – so I can continue to serve him for my benefit and his glory.

True Vision

"No! Someone must have stolen my wig because the one they returned isn’t mine. It’s off color, it’s like straw and it’s cheap looking. After my surgery I could see well enough to see know that wig was just awful!”


Dr. Smith nodded in understanding. “Mrs. Jones, my staff didn’t give you the wrong wig. What you got back was the one you came in with. But I must tell you that this shows that your cataract operation was a success."

Mrs. Jones certainly got a new perspective on the situation and sometimes that’s what I need on my spiritual journey, especially when an unexpected struggle causes me to realize how much I need God.

It usually happens when I have a problem and I’m forced to my spiritual knees, desperate for help. At that point I must choose what I’ll do. Will I look down at my problem and continue to wallow in misery? Will I look around seeking help from human sources that are as limited as I am? Or will I look up to seek God’s help as well as his purpose in the situation?

Hey – wait a minute, you might be saying – God’s help I can understand but could God actually have a purpose in what I’m going through? Indeed he can, and knowing that he does can help us cope better. He’s got a plan and he’s in control. – and that’s comforting.

So what could his purpose be? Perhaps it’s to teach me patience or increase my faith. Or it’s to prepare me to help someone we will meet later – maybe who has the same problem.

Yet no matter his purpose, dealing with the problem becomes easier when I realize I’m not a victim adrift in a purposeless existence. No, I’m neither drifting or a victims but under the direct control of an omnipotent God with a divine purpose that’s for my benefit and his glory.

Full Instructions

Sharing The Load

The Follow Up

Unexpected

Myrtle looked up from her magazine in the doctor’s waiting room and watched the newcomer shuffle in.

The woman was elderly, a fact that was quite evident from the wisps of silver hair that peeked from under her wool cap, and also from the blue veined hand that clutched the head of her cane. Her arthritis was evident from the way she walked, from the way she shuffled, one foot forward, then the other. A younger woman, possibly a daughter, slipped through the door behind the newcomer and scanned the waiting room to find seats for them. Indicating two vacant chairs on the other side of the room, she nudged the older woman in that direction.

The woman shuffled forward, her cane thumping softly, but she paused to cock her head a bit to see the seats and Myrtle realized the reason. Because she was so bent over she had to rotate her head to see the chair where she seated herself.

Myrtle looked down at her magazine and flipped a page as she pondered her own condition. Could Dr. Bloom help her? Would he live up to his reputation of being the best arthritis doctor in the area? She was sure of two things though after seeing that woman – first, if anyone could help her then it would be Dr. Bloom, and second, her own case was minor compared to the bent woman. Myrtle winced at the pain in her back as she shifted her position in the chair. She had good days and bad days and this was a bad day, and it had gotten to the point that pain medication had little effect.

“I’m going to refer you to a specialist,” her doctor told her. “I understand Dr. Bloom can work miracles for the few patients he accepts.” And a miracle was what Myrtle needed if she had any chance of living without pain.

“Now, mother, it shouldn’t be much longer,” Myrtle heard the soothing voice from across the room and realized it was the daughter of the other woman. “I’m sure Dr. Bloom can help solve your problem.”

Just then the door to the inner office opened and a young nurse appeared with a clipboard. “Mrs. Smith, Dr. Bloom will see you now. We’ll fix you right up,” she said cheerfully as Mrs. Smith and her daughter entered and she shut the door.

Surely, Myrtle thought, the woman would be in there for quite a while since she was in such bad shape, but barely ten minutes later the door shot open and she appeared. Yet this time she was no longer bent, but stood almost upright. With her now smiling daughter trailing her into the waiting room, she crossed the room to open the exit door. Though the older woman still clutched the cane in front of her, this time as she stepped forward it was with a firm and confident step. The other patients were agape at the change and then Myrtle found her voice.

“Mrs. Smith! “ The woman paused as Myrtle stepped forward. “I heard the nurse call your name. We’re so glad you’re cured. You came in here bent in half and your only support was that cane. Now you don’t seem to need it, Dr. Bloom must have done a miracle!”

The woman grimaced. “Nonsense! It’s no miracle – he just gave me a longer cane!”

Mrs. Smith’s problem had a very simple even unexpected solution and often it’s the same way when God provides an answer to one of my problems. I know he’ll come through for me and provide the perfect resolution, but often he may have a simpler solution then what I have in mind. For often I’ve so blown up the problem in my mind that I think only something dramatic – a “miracle” – will do. The answer can’t be simple – it’s got to be spectacular!

But God doesn’t need the fantastic, for him simple does just fine and as it does the easy solution reveals his power all the more. And then when I see how perfect his “simple” solution was I realize how faultless are all his plans and provisions.

Anne Adams, Author of "First of All, a Wife: Sketches of American First Ladies"

Recovery?

Jake and Pete were comparing notes as they left work after a busy day.

“Boy, this has been a hard day.” Pete told Jake. “I thought it would be easy working in a call center for a computer company but I didn’t realize what dumb questions people can ask.”

“Oh, I think it’s just inexperience.” Jake hunched his shoulders into his coat. “After all, lots of the callers have never had a computer before and just don’t know how they work. Then they have problems they can’t solve and what’s simple to us is a puzzle to them.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Pete answered. “I had one of those newbies the other day when I was working the night shift. This gal called and when she gave me her personal info and I brought it up on the screen I told her I could see what model computer she had. Then suddenly she dropped the phone to run off and put on a bathrobe! Seems she thought I could actually look through the phone line and see her computer – and she was in her nightgown!”

Jake pulled out his car key. “Yeah, that lady was really spacey, but I got a call this morning that’s even weirder than yours. Like your caller this was an old lady. She started out saying she’d gotten his computer from her daughter and wanted to ask a question.”

“What was it?”

“Oh, she liked the computer, being able to ‘surf the ‘Net, work with documents and files, but she was stymied by one thing.”

By now Pete and Jake had reached their cars where Jake unlocked his vehicle and got in behind the wheel.
“Wait a minute, “ Pete tapped on the car window as Jake rolled down the window. You’re not going to get away without telling me what it was! What was her problem?”

Jake started the car and smiled. “She said that she’d deleted a file a week before and now she needed it and she didn’t know how to get it back. Then she noticed the clock and calendar down in the corner of the screen and that gave her an idea. So she wanted to know if she set it back a week if it would get her file back.”

That lady wanted to reverse the effects of a past event and sometimes I want to do the same when maybe I’ve said or done something that I think might have offended or hurt someone. Another problem is that when that happens I can’t help but fret and worry.

Yet no matter what it is, when I worry like that, like with Jake’s caller, I’m trying to undo what I see as irreparable damage. However, it doesn’t work that way with either computers or in real life. No, I can’t change what’s happened or even deal with the results. In fact, all I can do is worry and that’s so useless and futile!

So what can I do? As with all problems on my spiritual walk – I need to let God handle it, confess the worry and give it up to him who always has the perfect solution. And with him in charge I can move beyond the unfortunate events with full reliance on his provision.

Anne Adams, Author of "First of All, a Wife: Sketches of American First Ladies"

A Sense Of Expectation

“I wonder if Nicole understands what Easter really means,” Sue looked up from tossing the salad. “I know she gets the real story at church and in Sunday school, but who knows what she’s hearing from her friends?”

“Oh, I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Ted assured her as she reached over into the salad bowl to snatch a cherry tomato. “She’s only three.”

Sue looked up. “But all her friends talk about are candy eggs and Easter bunnies. Nothing about the Resurrection.”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with candy and bunnies – it’s part of the childhood fun.” Ted replied. “But you’re wise in stressing the resurrection. Can I help?”

“Well, I’m going to take her shopping for her new Easter outfit and I’ll talk about the meaning of Easter while we’re gone. Then when we get back I want you ask her what the most important part of Easter is. That way we’ll both be helping her understand.”

So later that day when they arrived at the department store, Sue began to act on her plan. “What’s coming this Sunday?” Sue asked Nicole as they entered the store.

“Easter! The Easter Bunny’s coming!” Nicole looked up with a grin and started hopping up and down.

“Do you remember what I told you about the real meaning of Easter?” Sue asked.

“Jesus came back to life.” Nicole continued hopping, but then she stopped and looked up. “But, Mommy, why did he do that?”

“Because he loves us and wants us to live with him forever so he did it first.” Sue decided a simple explanation would be best. “And his friends were very sad when he died – but really amazed and astonished when he came back to life.”

“A..mazed?” Nicole tried to pronounce the word. “As…tonished?”

“That means it was a surprise.” Sue told her. “Now let’s go get your new outfit.”

As they looked through the racks of frilly dresses, Nicole followed behind, babbling to herself. Sue thought she caught a few words: “As..tonish… A… mazed.”

“Oh, well,” Sue thought to herself, “At least she’s learned some new words.”

When they arrived home with a new outfit Nicole modeled the dress and new shoes and as Ted admired the new clothes he followed through with his part.

“That’s a pretty dress, darling,” Ted told her, “And why do we get dressed up for Sunday?”

“It’s Easter!” Nicole bubbled.

“And do you remember what Easter means?”

Nichole paused only a second. “It means Jesus’ friends were as – ton….” She hesitated as she tried to pronounce the word. “Easter means…” as she threw her small arms out as far as she could – and shouted: “Surprise!”

In the dark hours after the cross the disciples fled in terror, the women quietly mourned behind closed doors, and the Jewish religious leaders smugly observed their Passover season with a sense of accomplishment and triumph. Jesus Christ was now dead. Gone. Out of the picture. Now, the officials assured themselves, surely we can get back to our normal routine!

Or so they thought. Though Jesus had carefully explained that he would die, his disciples never seemed to grasp it. Perhaps they either never comprehended it or they shut the concept from their minds Still, if they “disremembered” the idea of his death then they also had forgotten about his promised Resurrection. So the disciples cowered in fear of the religious establishment, and wondered about the future.

However, what they thought was unimportant since Jesus had his own agenda. And because he did soon all Jerusalem was abuzz with the reports of the empty tomb. To the Jewish leaders it was just the babbling of the rabble. But to those who saw not just the empty tomb but the risen Savior, it was a triumphant beginning.

And all because God said, “Surprise!”

Gloom Into Glory

The lights in the sanctuary slowly dimmed and in the utter silence the altar was stripped. First the Bible, then the paraments and finally the candles, and soon the altar was bathed in just one pinpoint light focused on the bare surface. From my seat in the choir at the Maundy Thursday service, I sensed the hush that spread over the congregation as they realized what it all meant. The church was going into mourning because tomorrow was Good Friday – the traditional day of the Savior’s death.

In silence, I joined the other choir members as we filed out the side door and into the room off the sanctuary. There we hung up our robes and began to quietly depart.
However, as I left the choir room I noticed a closed door across the hall. It bore a placard: “Please do not enter. Lilies are blooming for Easter.”

And on Sunday morning they had, lining the altar rail, their white bell blossoms flaring open. Yet why the sign on the door? Why were the lilies kept solitary and in darkness? It was simple- they needed to be shut up in the dark room so their closed blossoms would open and the symbolism was unmistakable. For just a few days before on Maundy Thursday in one room the church was enacting a ritual of mourning, and just a few feet away unseen lilies that prepared to open up and symbolize new life.

How like the first Easter! Jesus’ disciples were deep in melancholy depression and fear at his death. Yet while they brooded, behind the scenes, God worked out his plans for the blessed brightness of the resurrection, and in his perfect time they would see it. For just as without Christ’s death there would be no resurrection, so without the darkness of Good Friday there would be no light of Easter.

There had to be gloom before there could be glory.

The Right Authority

Gene hopped down from his tractor, wiped his face with the red bandanna and leaned against the fence post, as he admired the newly turned furrows in the newly plowed field. Then his gaze shifted to the adjacent field where Primo, his hefty prized Angus bull was grazing. Indeed, he had much to be proud of. Next with a check of his watch, Gene remembered that he still had some work at the house and within a few minutes he had driven the tractor down to the barn, and then returned to the house. But as he climbed the porch steps, he heard the sound of a motor and turned to see a dark sedan pulling up to the house, and the driver emerge. He was a hefty fellow wearing a khaki shirt and blue jeans, and carrying a clipboard. As he came nearer Gene saw he wore around his neck on a lanyard an ID badge. Pulling a card from his shirt pocket to display, the newcomer was quick to state his business. “I’m with the State Highway Department and I need to inspect one of your fields for a possible new road.”

Gene examined the card. “Which field is that?”

“The one down by the road – you know – the pasture.” The man snapped.

Gene considered. “I wouldn’t recommend doing that. You can stand at the fence but I don’t think you’d better go into the field.”

The man frowned. “Look, mister, I have the authority of the state to go wherever I want. See that card? It gives me the authority to go anywhere I want on your farm!”

Gene shrugged. “Go ahead, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He handed back the card and leaving the man on the porch, he entered the house.

Gene had just seated himself at his desk in the front room and was just starting to concentrate on a seed catalog when he heard a shriek. “Help!”

Gene hurtled himself out onto the porch and down the lane as the shrieks got louder, as he skidded to a stop at the pasture fence he saw the problem. The highway department employee, his clipboard flying, was sprinting across the pasture, with Primo close behind. With his hooves chucking up sod, the Black Angus was gaining on the man.
With a leap, the man gained the fence and scrambled over then stood there panting as Primo returned to grazing.

Gene cocked his head at the guy. “Well, mister, all you had to do was show him your card.”

That fellow certainly thought he could go anywhere he wanted but though I’m not likely to be chased by a bull I often make the same assumption on my spiritual journey. And the problem comes when I barge into a new area of service for God, sure in my own mind that it’s not just perfect for me but for him, too. Of course the problems come when I realize it wasn’t so great for me – or God – because he wasn’t behind it from the beginning. If he was then everything would go smoothly and perfectly and that’s not happening. So next time I’ll serve him best when I don’t create my own “service opportunities” but wait for his leading. And that’s no bull!

Anne Adams, Author of "First of All, a Wife: Sketches of American First Ladies"