I remember being deeply upset and stressed out because of mounting medical bills after we had our third daughter. I couldn’t sleep for several nights as I was trying to figure out how we’d pay the bills. My muscles were tense. I was exhausted. The stress was getting to me. And so I cried out to God.
My local church is always looking for ways to reach the young people in our community. Some of the ways we’ve considered have included having a toddler group for teenage mothers, hosting a barbecue for the local youth, opening up our church building as a youth drop-in center, and even helping out with a multi-church mobile youth club bus.
Several years ago I read about people who paid $2,500 per night at specific hotels in order to be disconnected from the Internet, their cell phones, and all other types of technology that pierce the silence. They were willing to pay a lot of money to obtain what they hoped would be some peace of mind—even if it was temporary. They were willing to pay a hefty price for some silence and solitude.
In November 2014, police found a 13-year-old boy who had been missing for 4 years. The heart- wrenching story grew even more shocking when police revealed that the boy’s father and stepmother had the boy all the time—hidden behind a fake wall in their house during most hours of each day. For 4 long years the boy waited to be found, waited to be reunited with his mother.
When I began training my hunting dog, I kept him very close to me, issued only one command, and made sure to enforce the command, should he not understand or obey. Each time we had success, I would give him a little more freedom and then repeat the command, making sure he received a lot of affirmation and praise for his compliance. These days I can let him loose in the woodlands and be assured that all I have to do is call his name and then give a hand signal and he will do as I tell him without delay—most of the time at least! He hears my voice, he is listening all the time for it, and he wants to obey because he trusts me.
In December 2014, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge met LeBron James, the most famous basketball player in the US. Despite the fact that one of his nicknames is “King James,” he is in fact not royalty, and protocol demanded that he should not touch the Duke or Duchess. Not knowing this, LeBron put his arm around the couple and posed for a photograph. This was a shocking break in decorum for some, but the royal couple seemed comfortable and shared that they enjoyed meeting “King” James.
On October 27, 2014, BBC Africa posted on their social media outlets, “Today we are asking the question: ‘Is the widespread panic about #Ebola justified?’—and we’re looking for callers. . . . Statistically, Ebola still kills far fewer people than malaria and other diseases. So why has it dominated the headlines?”
A friend posted a crockpot recipe on her Facebook page. The meal looked good, so I downloaded the recipe—intending to use it one day. The following week, another friend said she was looking for some good slow-cooker meals to prepare, so I emailed her the crockpot recipe I had seen on Facebook. She, in turn, forwarded it to several friends who passed it on as well.
Day 7. The alarm clock buzzes; it is morning again. I roll over and hit the snooze bar, not ready to get out of bed yet. My spirit cries out for nourishment; my body appeals for more sleep. I’m still struggling to have regular quiet time with God.
At 14, I had been wandering from Jesus. But then I turned back to Him and went from a rebellious teenager to His passionately enthusiastic disciple. One night, I planned to stay up until God revealed Himself to me. This lasted about 3 hours before I succumbed to tired eyes and fell asleep. The next morning, I was deeply disappointed that a tangible experience with God didn’t take place. For I thought that He would surely respond to the eager expectations of a young girl. Over the years, however, God has revealed Himself to me in many unexpected ways as I’ve surrendered myself to Him.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the problem of evil. I watch the news and see atrocities committed against the innocent (Psalm 73:3-16). People in my town, nation, and the world don’t have food to eat or access to good medical care. Natural disasters swallow people alive. Children face cruel words and actions. Wars break out with devastating effects. And then I receive news that a child or a young person I know has died before he or she has really had a chance to live, that families I know are breaking up, and that friends are in deep financial distress.
There’s a prayer meeting at my church tonight. Instead of feeling energized by the thought of praying with others, an unexplained tiredness falls heavy on me. Maybe I should go home to rest. I won’t be missing much, will I?
I took the day off from work to experience some much-needed silence and solitude. My life was brimming with good things: family, friends, and ministry in the church. I had much to be thankful for, but internally I was struggling with one thing—something I wanted to talk to God about it.
Organized religion is not for me,” a friend said to me recently. I have been praying for this friend’s salvation for more than 15 years, and every time we get together I pray that God will use me to lead her closer to Jesus. But she still seems so skeptical, and I’m afraid of saying anything that might sour our relationship.
As a child, I was told that I should put my hands together and close my eyes to pray. So I used to scrunch up my eyes and clench my fingers together to be even more earnest as I asked God for the things on my heart. The harder I worked at praying this way, the more God would answer—or so I thought!