His is Risen, Indeed!

I clung to Mary Magdalene as a tremor of fear rippled through us both. The earth shook beneath our feet again, and the eerie silence of the early hour intensified our fearful response. Our hearts ached with Jesus’ death, robbing us of sleep over the past two nights, so we had agreed to visit the tomb together even as the sun was just peeking over the hillside.

The last time the earth shook like this, Jesus had taken his final breath, and unbelievable events had occurred. The temple curtain had ripped in half, and many of our dead had risen from their graves! Even as we mourned our teacher’s passing, we rejoiced to see dear friends who had followed him, whom we had buried, now walking and talking as if they’d never died. Why had God valued their lives more than that of his own son?

As the tremors ended, I focused my eyes on the entrance area of the tomb, where several Roman guards stood next to the large stone. Would they roll it aside for us to tend to the body? Neither of them looked approachable or amenable to acting on such a request from two ragged women. We should have waited until it was fully day.

As I approached the man closest to us, the tomb suddenly lit up with a brilliant light. We shielded our eyes with our hands at the blinding radiance.

Mary gave a little cry beside me as I realized the light shone out of a man-like figure standing between the guards and us. He was dressed in white from head to toe, and his face glowed like a suspended flash of lightning.

My jaw dropped as we both stood paralyzed with fear and watched him roll away the massive stone as if it were nothing. He then nimbly hopped up to sit on it.

My heart pounded against my chest as we watched the guards fall to the ground, one by one. Had they died? Would we be next? I gripped Mary’s arm so hard that I knew she’d have bruises there if we survived this. I could feel her trembling, but I couldn’t look away from the mystical creature that sat before us.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

The heavenly sound of his voice flowed into my soul, and I instantly felt lighter. Despite the shaking earth, the possibly-dead guards, and the appearance of this supernatural man sitting before us, my spirit obeyed, and I was no longer afraid. This was about Jesus. In my heart, I had known this couldn’t be the end. I leaned in to hear his words even though his voice was loud and strong.

“I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.”

We both nodded mutely.

The angelic creature gestured to the open doorway to the tomb. “Your Messiah isn’t here! He is risen from the dead, just as he said would happen.”

Mary and I looked at each other then. She mirrored my wide eyes and open mouth. Jesus was alive?

The angel moved to the doorway of the tomb. “Come, see where his body was lying.”

I forced my feet into action and pulled Mary with me to the entrance to cautiously peek in. Empty—it was empty! There was no smell of death, no body wrapped in cloth. But we had watched Joseph lay him there! Where was he? How could this be?

Too scared to ask the glowing creature standing behind us, his grin stretching from ear to shining ear, I looked at my companion. “Where is he?” I hissed.

Mary’s eyes were still big and round. She lifted a shoulder in response and turned toward the stranger, taking me with her since our arms were tightly linked.

He spoke again with authority, “Now, go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and he is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there.”

As the edges of his body seemed to shimmer and become transparent, he said, “Remember what I have told you.” And then he was gone.

Mary’s fingernails were now boring into my arm as she tried to order words into a sentence, but they came tumbling out in a heap. Words like: Jesus. Gone. Empty. The tomb. Questions including What? How? Where?

“We have to tell the others!” I cried. “They will never believe it, but we have to tell them—Jesus is alive!”

We joined hands and danced, leaping in the air with energy we shouldn’t have had after two sleepless nights.

“Come on!” Mary laughed, “Let’s tell everyone!”

Then her face grew serious as she looked to the rock where God’s messenger had sat and pointed beyond it to the guards as they rose slowly with fear and anger written on their faces.

“Trouble is not finished here. We must not delay sharing this amazing news!”

We hurried off to the shouts of the guards, demanding we return with an explanation. Our hearts pounded as we pushed our legs to run as fast as we could.

When we had put some distance between us and the tomb, we stopped to catch our breath. The guards had not pursued us.

Bent over as I was, the first thing I saw was his feet. They still bore the wounds from the nails that had secured him to the cross. My increased heartbeat was no longer due to exertion. I stood up so suddenly that I swayed.

“Jesus?”

Mary’s head snapped up.

“Don’t be afraid!” he said, his warm, familiar smile in place.

We both fell at his feet and worshiped him. The Messiah was alive, and he was there! There in front of us!

After a few minutes of fellowship, Jesus repeated the angel’s message to us: “Go tell my brothers to leave for Galilee, and they will see me there.”

“We will, Lord!” we both said at once, then looked at each other and laughed. But when we looked around, Jesus was gone.

We ran giggling and crying with joy toward town. God chose us! We saw Jesus first, and he chose US to be his messengers! Praise be to God; Jesus has risen! He is risen, indeed.

As we read the accounts of Jesus’s death and resurrection in the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, we read different details in each one. This retelling is based on the story told in Matthew 28. Were there more women present? Was Mary Magdalene actually alone? If we get hung up on these questions, we miss the main point of the story:

Jesus has risen!

God’s plan of salvation was complete. Jesus died as a punishment for our sins, and then He rose again to give us life. When we ask Him to become the Lord of our lives, repenting of our wrongdoings and selfish behavior, we become children of God—part of His family.

The Easter story is the pinnacle of our faith. We now have meaning and purpose in our lives because Jesus became a man and died for us. Because of the events in this story, we can have a personal relationship with a God who loves us and cares about everything we care about. We have hope for our future—eternal life with Him!

I thank You, Father, that Jesus’ resurrection brings us life. Move into my heart and resurrect it with a new awakening of Your love! Thank You for being the Way, the Truth, and the Life! Praise be to God; Jesus has risen! He is risen, indeed.

If you haven’t yet given your heart to Jesus, what better time than on Easter! He is ready to welcome you into the family.

Happy Easter, friends!

The Messiah is Dead

I had no tears left. The Messiah hung on a cross, broken and bleeding, hardly different in appearance from the two criminals hanging on either side of him. Except Jesus wore that horrific crown made from thorns, a reminder of the treatment he received before they nailed him there. They mocked him, spit on him, and whipped him. Those were the things I witnessed with my own eyes; Father God only knows what they did behind closed doors. Angry shouts, jeering voices, and despairing cries filled the air.

But at noon, night fell as if someone had snatched the sun out of the sky. At a time of day when it shined its brightest, giving off the most heat, the sun disappeared completely, leaving us in a blackness that felt thick and heavy.

An eerie silence overtook the crowd, and Mary Magdalene and I linked hands as we moved closer. After the exclaims and cries of surprise at the unexplainable darkness faded, we stood quietly facing the gruesome scene, our eyes adjusting to the inky gloom. Standing with us were those who mocked him and wanted to see the end, those who loved him and wished to support him during his wrongful death, and those who were curious, who had heard of this Jesus of Nazareth but had not come to know him like Mary and me. Our tears silently washed our faces in the darkness. We knew who he was. We loved him.

My feet and legs ached from standing for hours, but I would not sit down. Jesus deserved my respect and adoration right to the end. His love had changed my life and the lives of so many others surrounding me. I only had to look into the eyes of the woman grasping my hand to see a soul he had rescued from the brink of Hell and saved from the torture of demons. How could they do this to a man who did nothing but love others and heal their minds and bodies? Fresh tears filled my eyes once more as I reflected on his goodness and gentleness, not only towards my friends and me but to everybody that he met. The poor, the sick, the broken: he touched them all. And now we stood, shoulder to shoulder, a vigil like no other, the darkness an appropriate backdrop.

A ripple of murmuring stirred me from my reverie. Jesus had lifted his head, and the crowd had noticed.

“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” His voice echoed across the valley, cutting through the inky air.

My heart broke anew at that moment. How had he felt, hanging there as the life drained from him, compounded with his own Father’s refusal to intervene? God could have stopped this. If everything Jesus told us about Him was true, saving His son from this horrible death would be easy. He is a God of miracles, all-powerful. Why did He turn His back on Jesus now?

Voices called out from the crowd as they too questioned what was happening. Some misunderstood the words that Jesus cried out in his mother tongue, and they wondered why he called out to the prophet Elijah. The mockers resumed their jeering at him and scoffed that even God, who he had claimed was his Father, had left him to die. And those of us who loved him mourned with groans and cries of agony, reflecting his pain.

Someone offered him a drink of wine from a sponge at the end of a reed. After a quick sip, he raised his head again, quieting the crowd with another shout.

Suddenly, I heard a loud rumble and cracking sounds as though rocks were splitting apart, and I stumbled as the earth beneath our feet began to shake. Screams filled the air as the onlookers tried to keep their balance, fear overtaking them. As we tried to make sense of what was happening, shouts from those standing closest to the crosses confirmed that Jesus was dead.

Small groups of people broke off from the crowd and began making their way back to their homes or businesses. But one of the temple boys parted them as he raced towards the group of priests still standing off to one side.

“The curtain! The curtain! It ripped all by itself! It ripped right down the middle, from top to bottom!”

The crowd was still spreading this news about the temple’s heavy veil when another lad appeared with an incredible story of dead bodies rising from their graves and returning to the city. Fear and wonder rippled in waves through the congregation.

“This man truly was the Son of God!”

I craned my neck and squinted into the darkness to see who had shouted this. To my surprise, it was one of the Roman officers. It was a declaration that came much too late. Jesus was dead.

Mary and I stayed to see what they would do with his body. After the Sabbath, we would prepare it properly for burial.

One of the soldiers stabbed Jesus in the side to be sure he was gone, and a group of them removed his body from the cross. After a man named Joseph got permission to bury Jesus, we watched him wrap the body and place it in a cave, a new tomb he likely had for his family. We only headed home after a group of men rolled a heavy stone in front of the opening. We wondered at the reason for this—possibly to keep animals from going in to desecrate the remains?

The next day was the Sabbath. It would be another filled with mourning for this great man. The Messiah had come, and now the Messiah was dead. We went home with heavy hearts.

The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is often called Waiting Saturday. As I retell the story of Jesus’ death from the perspective of Mary (the mother of James and Joseph), I recognize that Jesus’ friends hadn’t understood any of the references He had made to His resurrection. In their minds, their beloved Jesus was dead, and all hope was lost. The day after His crucifixion was only a “waiting day” because the women had to wait until after the Sabbath to properly tend to the body. While the hours dragged by, they may have even questioned if He was the Messiah; for them, this was the end. Not only did they mourn a man they loved, but they mourned for humanity, for the loss of the One who was supposed to save the world. He now lay lifeless in a tomb.

The darkness may have fallen early on the day Jesus died, but the following day would have seemed even darker for His followers. Their leader was dead.

But this is not the end of the story, my friends. Let’s pick it up here later this weekend for an exciting plot twist!

As we acknowledge Good Friday and consider the crucifixion of Jesus, can you imagine yourself there, at the foot of the cross, watching Him die? How does that make you feel?

Take some time today to read one of the accounts of Jesus’ death (Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23, John 19) and thank Him for His sacrifice. He suffered for you.

Thank You, Jesus, for going through with Your Father’s plan, for suffering a terrible death as a human so that I would not have to pay for my own sins this way. Your love is overwhelming. Father, Your sacrifice showed immeasurable grace and mercy for Your creation. Thank You for offering us this way out, this doorway to forgiveness, and a stairway to Heaven. We wait today, not with sadness but with expectation, because we know how this story ends.
May God be praised.

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In Love

“Guess what, Aunt Valda. I have a boyfriend!” my niece looked at her dad as she giggled.

“Oh, really?” I hadn’t seen my niece for three months. This new development in her six-year-old social life was a shocker. “Who is your boyfriend?”

She stated his name. “He’s in my class at school.”

Her young face glowed. Were there animated hearts reflected in her eyes? As her head swiveled purposefully toward her father again, I quickly recognized that the love-glow on her face was not caused by a Grade One romance.

My brother-in-law responded predictably. “I don’t know what’s going on in that school!” He frowned at his daughter. “No one has a boyfriend here!”

“Yes, I do!” With another giggle, she twirled and ran off to find her favorite toy to show me.

I laughed and shared that I’d never seen so many romantic crushes in my Kindergarten class as I have this year. Was it the necessary masks causing a sense of intrigue?

We continued with our adult conversation, catching up on the family news. However, throughout the evening, the topic of my niece’s romance came up over and over again. She weaved the phrase “my boyfriend” into almost every interaction she had with her father, and each time, she punctuated her words with a pointed look and a huge grin. And my brother-in-law consistently rose to the occasion, responding with frustrated denial.

At his expense, it was quite entertaining to watch.

“Do you want to visit Park Omega to see the animals this weekend?” he asked her.

“No, I don’t have time. I’m getting married this weekend.” There was a pause. A head turn. A look. A grin. “To my boyfriend.”

She kept it up for hours—the merciless teasing. I was silently thanking God for giving me three boys.

“We’re in love!” she stated. “Me and my boyfriend.”

Indeed, there was love reflected in her eyes, but the real holder of her affection sat in the room with us. And he was no boy, but a grown man who loved her more than any six-year-old was capable of loving her.

Despite my brother-in-law’s reaction to his daughter’s boyfriend talk, he knows she is teasing him. He knows that she does it because she loves him.

Our heavenly Father loves us—His children—even more! I wonder how it makes Him feel when we tease Him with our other interests. I suspect it hurts Him much more than my niece’s innocent game.

Jesus summarizes the first four commandments of the Big Ten in Matthew 22:37:

Our heart is who we love. Do we truly love God more than anyone/anything else? Do we love Him more than our spouses? More than our children?

Some say your soul is your true nature. It consists of your thoughts and feelings and your resulting character. How often does our sinful nature affect what we think about and our emotional responses to people and situations?

Our mind is our control center. It rules our decision-making and our actions. Do we consult God before doing the things we do? Or do we often drive our lives without our GPS because we think we know where we’re going and how to get there?

David had it right when he wrote Psalm 103:1:

ALL that is within me …

Let’s strive to love and praise God with our ALL: heart, soul, and mind!

Are you in love with God? Do you make Him the highest priority in your life?

He shows His commitment to you by offering salvation and membership in His family. His love for you is unconditional.

What will you do today to show God that you love Him with your whole being?

Father,
I love You. I truly do. I’m sorry for all of the times I unknowingly teased You with my commitment to other things or people. I choose to put You back on top as my One True Love.
I surrender my whole being to You. Take my heart, soul, and mind and make them Yours.
Lead me where You want me to go and use my life to lead others to You.
Amen.

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Chaos

My teaching partner and I stood at the back of the room, watching our students as they played.

“What is going on today?”

“What a gong show!”

It seemed like we had spent the day refereeing. Our students’ voices were elevated and accusatory, and we fielded numerous complaints of unkind behavior. Two children were going home with scratches on their faces. Another pair had bitten each other.  I had to help a boy clean up after an intentional washroom accident (He wanted to go home, and at that moment, I did too).

There was no full moon to explain the behavior we were observing. I checked! They had gone outside during their regular time, so we couldn’t use “cabin fever” as an excuse. Our students’ poor conduct was unexplainable.

And ironic.

It was Pink Shirt Day. The children and staff all wore pretty shades of pink, some with frills and lace. We spent Circle Time talking about kindness and treating others with respect. THEY suggested ways they could be kind to each other during their play.

Yet, a couple hours later, they had forgotten their manners and were attacking each other with nails and teeth! Oh, the joys of Kindergarten!


In our bigger community, we finally saw the truck convoy depart from our city, leaving behind a massive debt and divided loyalties among friends. I still pass an occasional stranger carrying a cardboard sign speaking about FREEDOM, continuing their protest, but in a much more subdued way.

But before we finish the whoosh of breath resembling a sigh of relief, journalists turned the spotlight on the other side of the world. A protest about freedom in a country like Canada now seems trite compared to what people face in Ukraine today. The word WAR is being used in a context that infuses fear for their lives. And freedom is a fragile thing,  involving human rights that might be stolen.

Once again, I feel like throwing my hands up and crying, “What is going on?”

Trials, tribulations, wars—they are not evidence of a God who doesn’t care or doesn’t exist at all. These are reminders that we need Him. They are reminders to pray.

What do we pray for? We pray that God’s will be done. We pray that Ukrainians all over the globe call out to a Heavenly Deity who wants to be their Father. We pray that the driving force behind this invasion, the one calling the shots, has a come-to-Jesus moment. What would happen if he accepted God’s love into his heart? God sent His Son to die for EVERYone. Even a communist leader. Let’s pray for his soul, my friend.

Do you wish you could do something to help our faraway neighbors?

My friend’s husband, who works in the medical field, suggested canceling their March Break trip and going to Poland instead, to help with the influx of Ukrainians crossing the border. What a selfless, benevolent idea! We can’t all consider such an extreme measure, however.

What can you do? You can pray. Never underestimate the power of prayer.

Father, no matter how out of control things seem to be, I know that You still have power over everything. Thank You for loving us all enough to provide salvation and offer a relationship with You. I pray for the people of Ukraine and for their families who live elsewhere. Reveal Your heart to them. Draw them close and help them know You better.

I pray also for the Russian people who will likely be ostracized for their government’s decisions. May they discover your love too.

And work a miracle in the hearts and minds of the leaders. They are misguided humans who also need You.

I submit my own will to You. Accept my prayers, and show me what else I can do to help.

Amen.

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A Truck-Sandwich Delay

It was Book Club Night on Thursday – our first get-together since October. It was guaranteed to be a fun evening with friends, including food, laughs, and some poignant moments, as well, as we remembered our dear member who passed away since our last meeting.

After a pitstop for gas, I picked up a friend so we could carpool together. The ride should last about twenty-five minutes. But these are not ordinary times in our city. As I merged onto the highway to head to our destination, my vehicle joined an unnatural stream of traffic. My SUV, which is not a small car, seemed to shrink as it suddenly became the filling in a truck sandwich. We unintentionally shared the highway with the truck convoy that continues its siege on our city. These truckers from across the country are here in our nation’s capital to protest the mandates the government has put in place in response to the pandemic. Three lanes of traffic that typically raced at a speed around 120 km/hr now crawled along like a toddler across the living room floor.

My friend messaged our group chat to let them know we would not be on time. We had not anticipated this delay, but there was no way out.

We arrived an hour late because of this unexpected situation, tired and frustrated, with less gas in the tank but otherwise unharmed.

Unexpected delays. Interruptions. Cancellations. Who among us likes any of those words? Don’t you wish we had no need for them to be a part of our vocabulary at all? We often respond with statements like, “It is what it is.” or “That’s life.” Neither of them makes us feel better.

This is where you people who always leave early for appointments and Sunday morning church services get the last laugh. “See? We prepare for the unexpected!” you might say. I’d high-five you (or elbow-bump these days) if we were in the same room, but it’s not likely to change my own leave-at-the-last-second-possible ways. I’m a busy girl, okay?

Arriving at Book Club an hour late is not a big deal. But what about when more significant life plans are altered by unexpected delays, interruptions, or cancellations? What then? How do we cope with those situations? Health problems, job loss, death of a loved one, car troubles, relationship issues, natural disasters, a political demonstration … There are so many things beyond our control.

And for us control freaks, these things drive us mad, don’t they?
“It is what it is.”
“That’s life.”
These sentiments are far from helpful.

Except that’s a secular way of thinking. As Christ-followers, we believe that God has a plan and nothing deviates from that plan unless we turn our backs on Him. If we give our heart and our will to Jesus, our life becomes His to direct. The things that happen which seem like interruptions or delays are purposeful. They are part of His plan, which might not make sense to us at the moment (and might never make sense to us), but God is in control.

That doesn’t mean that believers won’t struggle or endure hardships. The promise God gives us is that He will give us strength to go through those hard times, and He will be there with us. That’s still a sweet deal: I pledge allegiance to the One who created me, and He adopts me into His family and takes care of me forever.

Letting God take charge is like having a manufacturer warranty. He created us, so He knows what is best for us. Our Manufacturer can fix us when we are broken (which often happens because we deviated from His plan and took back control). No matter how smart we think we are, God is the King of Wisdom; only He is omniscient (all-knowing).

Do you trust God with all of your plans? Do you submit your will to Him? Giving up control doesn’t have to mean losing control. It is a kind of freedom to pass everything over to Him. Not everyone will see it that way, though. Especially when you’re a control freak, and you like to see things done a certain way.

The next time you face something that seems to interrupt your life, why not whisper a prayer of thanks instead of responding in anger or disappointment? In God’s greater plan, He may have just spared you from something worse, or He may be putting someone in your path who needs your help. He might want to strengthen your faith. Thank Him for being in control.

Even if you are a truck sandwich, driving at 2 km/hr in the middle of a truck convoy …

Father, forgive me for wanting to be in charge and thinking I know what’s best. Your ways are higher than my ways, and Your thoughts are higher than my thoughts (Isaiah 55:9). I trust You in Your infinite wisdom, even when my life takes unexpected turns. I surrender the steering wheel to You. You are in control.

Amen.


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Lost!

I have a sneak preview for you today; here’s one of the devotions from my manuscript,

Your Morning Chuckle & Faith Challenge!

Enjoy!

There are parts of the city I hate driving in, especially the busy downtown core with its buses, taxis, pedestrians, cyclists. With so much going on, I wish I had an extra set of eyes. Finding a parking spot can be an even bigger nightmare and might require me to use that skill I dreaded most while practicing for my driver’s test: parallel parking!

My downtown driving anxiety decreased exponentially when our vehicles became equipped with a Global Positioning System (GPS). I merely tell my car where I’m heading, and a lovely voice recommends the best route to get there. (She doesn’t help with parking, but my car has another miraculous feature to do that.) Even when I miss a turn or confuse her directions, my GPS friend patiently redirects me and gets me back on track. She has given me driving confidence. I depend on her to get me to my destination in a relatively good time. (She has no control over the fact that I never leave with enough travel time to get anywhere ON TIME!) My trust in the GPS gives me the perception that I will never get lost—she’s got my back.

Have you ever been to a city, however, where the buildings are so tall, your trusty device can’t communicate with her satellite which tells HER where to go? That old anxiety comes flooding back that I will get lost—I will never arrive at my typical five-minutes-past-the-hour-I’m-supposed-to-be-there fashion. I might be too late to beg forgiveness! I might have to pay a missed-appointment penalty. So far, in those instances, I have managed to stay on course until the GPS reconnects to her mainframe-in-the-sky and continues giving me informed advice and trustworthy instructions. I wipe the sweat off my brow and continue with my mission.

With ongoing road construction and city expansion, sometimes our GPS gets outdated. She no longer recognizes the terrain because the information about road construction is no longer current. Suddenly, there’s a new road where only a field appears in her map content. When I use the new road that seems more direct and time-efficient, the GPS screen shows my avatar off-roading over green spaces and bravely driving across rivers. She doesn’t sound afraid or panicked, but she is determined to get me back on the right path. Over and over, she gives me directions to reroute to the roads she knows. Eventually, she can recalculate that final time when the new route connects to something familiar to her. This can also be a scary ride since I’ve lost her confident guidance. I seem to be beating a trail through the wilderness, and I can only hope the new road is taking me where I want to go (in the shortest amount of time, of course, because, seriously, I shouldn’t be more than five minutes late—that would be ill-mannered!).

These are usually the only two situations where I lose faith in following the GPS. So, one day while traveling to my son’s new apartment for the first time, I was surprised to end up lost.

My GPS friend was trying her best to get me there. There were no skyscrapers, no new streets. She just seemed confused. The directions she was giving me were nonsensical. She told me to go down one-way streets the wrong way and make turns where there were no roads. Her projected arrival time was much later than it should have been. It didn’t seem possible to be lost with a GPS next to me!

I double-checked that I had entered the address correctly. Yes, everything matched my son’s information. I used the GPS in my phone that day, which was usually more accurate than the built-in one that came with my car. This app could tell if there was heavy traffic or road closures and would give me the fastest route in real-time. But on this occasion, she was letting me down.

I called my son in frustration. (Yes, I was desperate enough to use my phone to call someone!) He tried to figure out where I was as I spouted off the street names on the signs around me. He suggested I put the address in my car’s GPS instead. I pulled over and did that. The new confident voice directed me to my son’s apartment with no errors.
The relief was instant. I hated the feeling of being lost. From the safety of my son’s couch, I opened my phone app again. What had gone wrong? It didn’t take me long to realize I had used the GPS while walking, not driving, the day before. The app still operated on the setting to walk to my destination! Her instructions all made sense if I had been on foot. WALKING on a one-way street in the wrong direction is perfectly acceptable. Some suggested turns were onto footpaths that crisscrossed the city, meant for pedestrians only. The problem was a user error. I could put my confidence back in the GPS for my next trip, and she would not likely let me down.


It’s not a good feeling to recognize that you’re lost. But, don’t we all feel a little lost sometimes? The expression we used in Newfoundland was, “I don’t know if I’m coming or going!”

One day while Jesus taught, He told three stories about lost things: a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son (Luke 15:3–32). His main message for the first two was simple: just like the shepherd cares enough to leave behind ninety-nine of his sheep to hunt for one who has wandered off, and the lady sweeps her entire house to look for one coin, God actively goes after people who have wandered away from His love. When He finds the lost soul, and that person repents of their sin, all of Heaven rejoices and celebrates.

In the parable of the lost son, the young man didn’t deserve a merciful homecoming. He’d been foolish and greedy, taking his money and wasting it, shaming his family, and disrespecting his father. When he came crawling home, his dad could have made him squirm just a bit. But no, the elated man ran to meet his boy, hugged him and kissed his filthy face, and treated him like royalty, demanding of his servants, “Get the finest robe you can find, put a ring on his finger and some nice shoes. Let’s kill an animal and have a party!”

The son must have felt worse, hearing these requests, because he knew he wasn’t worthy of this welcome.

The point of all these stories is that God loves us all and welcomes us home, no matter how far we have wandered from Him. When His children show up with a repentant heart, He is ready to throw a party.

We have a GPS to guide us on the best route to our final destination: our home with Jesus in Heaven. That guide is our Bible. The voice that accompanies the written instructions is the Holy Spirit, which is the part of God that resides within us when we receive salvation.

This navigation system will only work if: we focus on our destination (desiring a Kingdom journey), we hear the voice of the Holy Spirit telling us where to go (praying and listening), and we follow the directions given to us (submitting our lives to Him).

There will be distractions along the route, road signs that will confuse us, and locations where the GPS’s volume is faint and difficult to hear. If we can’t use our navigation system to find our way, however, the fault is ours—we made an error. The Holy Spirit will never steer us wrong because our Father doesn’t want us to end up lost.

Push the Home button on your GPS. It’s time to make a U-turn and return to your predestined route.

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. (Psalm 56:3 NIV)

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:10 NIV)

The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever. (Isaiah 40:8)

How confident are you in the life path on which you travel? Have you ever felt that you’ve taken a wrong turn and ended up lost?

Read your Bible and pray regularly. When you apply these spiritual disciplines, you can follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance with complete trust and confidence that you are in God’s will. He will lead you to your final destination via the very best route.

Take some time today to praise Him for His faithfulness and listen for His voice.

God, help me find my way back to You and the path You wish me to take. As I submit my heart and will to You and learn to listen, help me hear the Holy Spirit’s voice, directing me where to go. Every choice and decision I make in my life is a fork in the road where I can become lost if I take the wrong turn. I know that You can reroute me and guide me back if I get lost, but I will have wasted time and missed out on experiences that You wanted me to have along the way. Help me to put my trust in You as I follow Your directions. 

Lead me home, Father. 

Amen.

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Sweet, Hairy Lies

“Rapunzel! Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”

The pretty princess uncoiled her mounds of braids and let them fall from the tower’s window to the ground where the prince stood. Her rescuer had finally arrived, and her happily ever after was right around the corner—well, a few yards below her, to be specific.

I wonder about that marriage, though. Can you imagine the prince’s surprise at finding one of her hairs in his morning cereal? How many plungers and plumber’s snakes will he require to keep the shower drain clear? Could he ever sit next to her on the couch or lie beside her in bed without having her yelp and tell him to get off her hair?


I’m not a fan of hair. When I find one on the floor or in the tub, I move it like it was a vile creature that had invaded our home. Ew. I need a pest control service to call for capturing and removing hair! The only reason I’m not bald is that my pride issue is worse than my hair issue.

Since dying my hair red, I’ve discovered more hair in my tub after showering. I wondered at first if I was losing my mane. Then I realized that the platinum blond strands had blended in with the white tub. The hair had still been present; it had just been camouflaging! I find that a tad deceitful.

This morning, while lathering my red locks (gently so as not to pull out any hair), I heard the words, “Tell me lies. Tell me sweet little lies.” It was a song from my playlist of upbeat 80s tunes, blasting from my Bluetooth speaker. Did the words go together: little and lies? My blond hair probably thought they did.

The words were familiar, and I could easily sing along with the chorus, but I couldn’t help questioning why the singer would want someone to lie to her. Why would she suggest this was desirable? What relationship built on lies ever succeeded? If one survived, it was after numerous heartaches and hard work.

We sometimes categorize lies according to their potential for harm. Have you heard of white lies? Those are the little ones we tell by omission or redirection to protect someone from getting hurt or ruining a surprise. Those are okay, right? Or those grey areas like claiming certain things on your taxes or parking in the space for moms with young children. Those aren’t really lying, are they? What about the stories we tell children about a jolly old elf, an egg-toting bunny, and a tooth-loving fairy? Okay, I may have gone too far.

When we question the rightness or wrongness of things, our best resource is God’s Word. What does the Bible say about lies?

Before we get to the end of the third chapter in the very first book, we read about a lie that caused the very first sin. The serpent deceived Eve with untruths that enticed her to disobey God and taste something she was forbidden to eat. The results of that lie were far-reaching. Centuries later, we suffer pain during childbirth, work hard to make ends meet (rather than lounging in a garden paradise), and face the death of our earthly bodies. On top of that, the serpent’s lie led to every one of us being born in sin and needing redemption—needing Jesus to die. One little lie.

The Bible is clear that lying is a sin. God showed His displeasure about lying by including it in The Ten Commandments given to Moses. The Living Bible translation states it plainly: “You must not lie” (Exodus 20:16). Period. There is no further explanation breaking down this “false witness” or “lie” concept. Unlike our modern-day interpretation, God does not sort lies into categories that range from Okay to Hell-worthy.

Here are just a few of the verses about lying found in His Word:

Who is the father of lies?
Is lying comparative to murder?
The truth will come out.

Like my platinum blond hairs, those white lies might blend into the background for a while, but they will eventually be discovered.

I wonder what color Rapunzel’s long tresses were …

Do you ever find yourself justifying a “little” untruth?

Reflecting on the verses above, I think we can agree that no lie is little. No lie is acceptable to God.

If our desire is to grow to become more like Jesus, there is no room for untruth in our character. Let’s aim for honesty with discretion in knowing when to zip our lips rather than hurt someone.

Jesus, You are the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). I pray that your Holy Spirit will guide me toward truthfulness in every situation. Help me to know when to speak and when to be silent. Speak to my conscience when I consider saying or doing something dishonest. Use my life to glorify You. Amen.


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Val’s Review

As we open a new chapter with the page turn to 2022, like every year, many people will make New Year’s Resolutions and vocalize promises to themselves to make the future better in some way. For some, this means starting a new diet or an exercise plan. For others, the goal might be looking for a new job or vowing to repair a broken relationship. That relationship might even be with God.

Regardless of the type of goal one sets, following through with any resolution will require determination, perseverance, a support system, and the appropriate resources. I would like to take this opportunity on Val’s Stage to share a resource that will help you if your goal is to strengthen your personal relationship with God.

This afternoon, I was delighted to receive my own signed copy of my friend Carolyn Cheer’s book Do You Believe I Am God or Not? Anchoring Your Hope in God’s Promises. It was exciting to hold the product of months of Carolyn’s writing, revising, and editing with the accompanying prayers, sweat, and tears.

I opened the cover to see my name and a personal message of thanks in my friend’s handwriting. One more page turn revealed my name a second time, but in print, at the end of the review I wrote for this beautiful book that Carolyn co-created with God.

Adding the title of Author was a step of faith that my book will soon be published too!

My Review for

Do You Believe I Am God or Not?

Sometimes life can be challenging. When hardships come, we often try to navigate them on our own. The world around us encourages this self-sufficiency. However, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going” is not the way God intended us to face those stresses.
Before even opening this book, Carolyn’s words challenge our faith: “Do you believe I am God or not?” There is another way outside of panic attacks and spirals into depression. It begins with believing in His promises. In these beautiful devotions, Carolyn reminds us of God’s promises for us today as well as those for our future so we can anchor our lives in Him. The storms may come, but our God is greater.
This book is a testament to God’s grace as Carolyn faced her own battles to share her encouraging words with us. The journey to similar faith can begin in the next 21 days as you use this journaling devotional to spend time with an all-powerful God who loves you unconditionally.

Are You Up for the Challenge?

In January of each year, many churches encourage their congregations to join a 21-day journey together of prayer and fasting. I recommend following Carolyn’s 21 days of devotions and reflections as a guide during that focused spiritual time.

If you are not participating in an organized program like this, but you want to deepen your faith and understanding of God’s promises, you can do your own 21-day dive into His Word through Carolyn’s devotional.

I will not receive compensation from the sales of her book—except the knowledge that I shared a great resource with you!

As Carolyn would say, “Be blessed!”

And Happy New Year!

Read the Room

One of my students’ favorite learning activities is called Read the Room. They walk around the classroom looking for words, letters, or numbers. Often, they must engage with the discovery in some way once they’ve found it. This might involve copying the text on their recording sheet, crossing off a match, drawing a picture, or coloring something.

This morning, I did a Read the Room in the main living area of my condo. I invite you to join me on my journey. My engagement this morning was expressing my gratitude to God for each discovery.

Thank You, God, for my family. For those who raised me in a home filled with love—theirs and Yours. Thank You for our three grown sons. We are very proud of the men they have become. I pray that they will get to know you more. Thank You for giving me a loving husband who spoils me daily.

Thank You for friends—those who are dear to me. I pray that they will feel Your love and comfort this Christmas as many lives are thrown into chaos with positive COVID tests and diagnoses even scarier.

I pray for those who may experience loneliness this year. May they draw nearer to You.

Thank You for our food and for meeting all of our basic needs. We lack for nothing. I pray for those who do not have a filled fridge. Show me how I can help.

Thank You for my morning coffee! I do enjoy that wake-me-up.
Thank You for technology. When used correctly, this makes our lives better in so many ways. Help me to be tech-wise.
Thank You for transportation—for a car that works and gets us where we need to go in comfort.
Thank You for jobs that give us financial security.

Thank You for the seasons. They show that You are in control. Help me to appreciate winter a little more!

Thank You for the unique gifts and talents that You give us. Use my writing to encourage others.

So much here. Thank You for the joy, love, and peace You offer us when we believe in You. You are the provider of all things good.

Thank You for grace exemplified in Your salvation, for providing a way for us to have a close relationship with our Creator. Thank You for forgiving our sins and loving us unconditionally.

Thank You for Jesus. May we all keep our focus on Him during this celebratory season.
You are the Reason.

Well… Thanks!

I challenge you to Read the Room in your home. Look for all the things you have to be grateful for and whisper a prayer of thanks.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas! Stay safe and warm.

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Celebration

I hum a merry, seasonal tune while decorating the house. Friends and family will come for dinner tomorrow, and I want things to look festive. I make sure there are candles dispersed throughout. There’s something magical about candlelight, how it brings light and life to the room, in addition to the twinkling lights already strung about.

I’ve been planning and preparing the meal for days. Things that could be made ahead of time are done and tucked away, and I’ll do a grocery run tonight for the fresh items. I don’t know why we eat such a feast each year when it leaves us stuffed and sleepy, everyone looking for a couch to lie on when they get up from the table. But, that’s tradition, and we’ll carry on celebrating as our family always has. The dining table is already set with elegance for the multi-course meal.

A gift inventory is next. There must be something for each of my guests. The wrapping is just right; everything is clearly labelled for ease of distribution. The children especially look forward to the gifts I buy for them every year. I try to get something extravagant that their parents would be unlikely to purchase. Three nieces and two nephews—all taken care of.

That done, I check the closet to see if our festive outfits need steaming or ironing. Wrinkles will never do for such an important day. I might even dust off my special shoes, the ones my husband brought me back from his last business trip.

We get together with family far too little these days, and I can’t wait to see everyone. A celebration like this is the perfect excuse to spend time with our loved ones, and I’ve done my best to prepare for an extraordinary day. I only hope I’m not too tired to enjoy it myself…


With the timing of this post, you likely assume the celebration is Christmas. However, if it had been posted in November, a Mexican reader might think I’m referring to Dia de Los Muertos; an Indian reader might assume it’s Diwali; an American might think of Thanksgiving. In fact, the scenario above could represent many different celebrations recognized by people from backgrounds or ethnicities outside of our own. Customs including songs, decorations, lights, family gatherings, feasts, new clothing, and gift-giving are followed on many days throughout the year around the world. So, what makes Christmas special?

We all know the Christian reason for the season: the birth of the Christ Child. But, as we go through the preparations, do we really think of Him? There’s a lot to be done: many, many hours of planning, shopping, decorating, wrapping, and cooking—and, let’s not forget about cleaning! The busyness of the celebration can make it unrecognizable. Yet, the star of this day is Jesus!

What can we do this year to ensure that we do not overlook The Reason for the celebration? I’ve made a list of ten suggestions to help us focus on Jesus.

  1. Every time you see a candle or coloured light, thank Him for being the Light of the World.
  2. Before putting any Christmas treat near your lips (including chocolate!), say a genuine prayer of thanks for all of His provisions.
  3. As you wrap gifts, ask God to use the spiritual gifts He’s given you to help others during this season. And, thank Him for all of His abundant blessings!
  4. When you see a nativity scene, whisper a prayer, thanking your Maker for sending His Son for you.
  5. Begin every morning with Him. Read the book of Luke, or pick up an Advent devotional. A writer friend of mine, Jennifer Elwood, has published a beautiful one called Counting Up to Christmas: Twenty-Four Gifts from the Gospel of Luke (available on Amazon). A few minutes each morning focussing on God will set your heart to remember Him throughout your busy day.
  6. Serve birthday cake for dessert on Christmas Day. When our boys were young, this tradition involved writing “Happy Birthday, Jesus” on the cake and singing the birthday song before we cut it. It’s important to remind our children that Santa isn’t the central figure in this celebration.
  7. Speaking of the gift-giving, jolly old elf, when you see Santa—in person or in print—thank GOD for all the good gifts He’s given to you. Every good gift comes from HIM (sorry, Santa) (James 1:17).
  8. Turn those Christmas songs into anthems of praise. When you hear a carol, sing it from the heart. O come let us adore Him!
  9. Attend church on Christmas Eve. My grown boys know that attending the night before the big day is non-negotiable. It’s always such a beautiful service and fun to see if this will be the year that someone catches their neighbour’s hair on fire with the candle!
  10. Read the Christmas story aloud at some point during the day’s festivities. I recommend AFTER the gift opening. I remember waiting impatiently for my dad to read from his Bible while I gazed longingly at a pile of presents, trying hard not to resent this tradition!

Jesus, let us never forget that You are there inside that cyclone of busyness, and You bring peace.
Help us to focus this Christmas on You—the ultimate gift to the world. No one is like You, God.
You deserve our attention during this season and every day.
Amen.

It might be cliché to say, but let’s keep Christ in Christmas.

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