Just A Little Bit

Just A Little Bit

My default mode is all-or-nothing. Do I want to volunteer at church? I’m gonna sign up for everything and do it all. Do I feel overwhelmed about keeping memories for the kids? No one gets a baby book at all. Do I want to lose weight? I track every single calorie and work out for two hours, five days a week. Am I struggling to find time to write while the kids are home for the summer? I should just quit writing altogether.

What I love about the all-or-nothing mentality is that when I put it in writing like this, I can clearly see the absurdity of my logic. Yet, when I’m in my moments of being overwhelmed, quitting completely feels like not only a rational option, but the only viable one.

I’ve developed many different strategies for combating this all-or-nothing mentality, including prayer, taking deliberate personal time, and talking to a friend who is currently more rational than I am. But sometimes the best defense is a good offense, and I’ve been working on reminding myself that even if I can only accomplish a little bit, that still has value.

The reality for me is that during the summer, when my four daughters are home all day, I won’t be gifted with large blocks of time for writing. Thirty minutes, first thing in the morning may be all I get one day, and that is still better than not writing at all. I don’t have the luxury (nor endurance) for two-hour workouts anymore, yet twenty minutes on the elliptical still beats sitting on the couch all day.

Ever since I made a pilgrimage to Fatima in November of 2022, my heart has longed to move to Portugal. I’m telling y’all—all-or-nothing. I felt so much peace and so close to God while I was there that I want to uproot the whole family and move to a country where we don’t speak a single word of the native language.

One of my favorite heavenly friends, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux reminds me every day (through my garden flag) to bloom where I’m planted. It’s possible God wants me in Fatima one day, but I know that today is not that day. My kids are struggling enough with a move within the continental U.S., and I can’t imagine if we took them to a whole new country without explicit direction from God.

Yet my heart longs for that pilgrimage feeling, so in my growing attempt to do just a little bit, I planned something slightly smaller than a move to Portugal. This past weekend, my family went on our first ever mini-pilgrimage. We have visited churches while traveling before, but we’ve never set out with the sole purpose of growing closer to Christ through experiencing a holy site right here, close(ish) to home.

Now that we live in Kansas, we are only about two hours away from Gower, MO, the home of the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles. This may sound familiar, as this is the place where the body of their foundress, Sister Wilhilmena Lancaster, has been discovered as “incorrupt.”

Her body was not embalmed, and she was laid in only a simple, wooden coffin. Yet after four years in the ground, her body and habit remain intact. A case for sainthood has not even been opened yet, since it hasn’t been five years since her death.  The nuns of the abbey excavated her remains to move her to the newly completed St. Joseph’s Shrine, fully expecting to find only bones to inter. I can only imagine the reactions of her fellow sisters when they made that discovery!

Since we were going to be in Missouri, we decided to also stop by the nearby town of Conception, which is the home of an abbey of Benedictine monks, a seminary, and the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. We left home on Sunday afternoon after Mass with our regular parish and visited the stunning basilica (including cookies baked by monks!) before getting to the hotel. Then on Monday we went to the other abbey and celebrated the traditional Latin Mass with the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles and saw the body of Sr. Wilhelmina.

And that was it (ok, then we stopped at Sam’s Club on the way home because, you know, real life). We were out of our house for barely more than 24 hours, and it was one of the best family trips we’ve ever taken. The mini-pilgrimage was long enough to feel spiritual and fulfilling, and gratifying that I’m doing right by these kids that God has entrusted to my care. The mini-pilgrimage was short enough that my kids weren’t biting each others’ heads off and completely sucking my joy dry.

A little bit was enough. A little bit was beautiful and rewarding. I’m gonna keep trying to do just a little bit each day.

 

Maria Riley 2023

Candy as Compassion

Candy as Compassion

Next Sunday, the Third Sunday of Lent, we see how God showed compassion on His people in the desert, giving them water from the rock, and the Samaritan woman giving Jesus a drink. So how do we know compassion? What does it look like? Sound like? Do we know when we see or show it?

I visited a person, while making my Diaconate rounds, on hospice in their early 40’s. They would ask for the same item of every doctor, nurse, and certified nursing assistant (CNA)—a bag of the Chewable Sweet Tarts from the candy machine down the hall.

As the person faded in and out, they told me they had two beautiful children who were unable to make the trip to say “goodbye.” Their condition was taking hold. Soon they wouldn’t wake again. The person had led a rough life. They’d stolen, been hooked on drugs, cheated, lied, and had prominent tattoos of “taking lives.”

I didn’t judge and asked, “What would make you happy before you leave this world?”

They smiled and said, “Just one thing, a bag of those Chewable Sweet Tarts.”

I had to chuckle. “What’s so special about a bag of candy?”

The person smiled, a tear leaking from their eye. They said, “I used to take my kids around the neighborhood for Halloween. We had the best time! We’d talk as we walked around. I found out I had really smart, funny, and good kids.” The person sat with the memory, then said, “After we got home, we’d dump all the candy onto the kitchen table and take a piece, share it, and judge it with a rating. ‘This one’s an 8.6, or 9.2, or 4.1!’ We’d have the best time.”

The person looked over at me and said, “The Chewable Sweet Tarts… we never had those. Somehow having them will bring me back to the one good time—the one good thing I had in my life—my kids.”

After going to the restroom, I saw the candy machine and came back to the room, gently laying the bag of Chewable Sweet Tarts on the bed table. The person looked up at me. Big tears and no ability to speak. I came to the bedside, and they clung to me for a solid five minutes—bawling and asking over and over, “Why? Why? Why would you show me any compassion? Why would you do this for me?”

We shared the candy. As the person across from me chewed slowly, smiling the entire time, I finally answered their question. “Because you’re worthy of compassion. We all are.”

We never know what another person needs. The nurses, doctors, and hospital staff all had been in that room. They saw the patient—but missed the person.

Look around you. Who are the persons around you? Not customers, not clients, not patients—persons. Remember, compassion is a sure sign that the Holy Spirit is alive in us—and is helping us see that person crossing our paths every day.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

A Catholic Man Considers Grief and Bereavement

A Catholic Man Considers Grief and Bereavement

 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4)

 

We say many “comforting” things to people in mourning. Still, I have discovered that for those who are in a mournful state, comforting them sometimes is not possible. Many have what is akin to a deep, open wound that is extremely painful. For many, the healing and scarring process takes a long time. The scar formed is always there to remind us of what was.

We firmly believe, and hence we hope that, just as Christ is truly risen from the dead and lives forever, so after death the righteous will live forever with the risen Christ and he will raise them up on the last day. Our resurrection, like his own, will be the work of the Most Holy Trinity. (Catechism of the Catholic Church 989)

 

Oh yes, we know all these things. We indeed say that we believe these things. Every Sunday, we profess our faith out loud and in public, saying, “and [He] rose again on the third day.”

As Catholic Christians, we have been comforted by our faith during our lives. The belief that death is only a transition to a world filled with perfect happiness is instilled in us. We shall be sharing our heavenly world with Jesus, the Blessed Mother, angels, saints, and loved ones gone before us. There will be no more pain and suffering, no illness, and nothing negative. Shouldn’t we be jumping up and down with joy? Unfortunately, “tomorrow” now has a permanent hole in it, and we have no idea how to fill it.

 

Victims of Adam and Eve’s original sin

We are human beings after all. We are also victims of Adam and Eve’s original sin. This is the sin that brought us illness and death. This is the reason for our grief. This is the reason for our pain and suffering. This is the reason for bereavement, which means “deprivation” or to have “suffered a loss.”

 

“Big Boys don’t cry”

Having these feelings is normal. As a man, I have tried to stifle any outward display of emotion in public. (That is how we were raised—”big boys don’t cry.” Well, real men do.) At home, who cares? No one is there to see my crumblings. After my wife’s funeral a few years ago, I did fail miserably at Walmart. Several  days after her funeral,  I had gone there to get a few things. I noticed that there were no customers in the  cell-phone section  I needed a memory chip for my phone so I asked the clerk where they were. He pointed them out and I grabbed a new chip and handed it to him.

He offered to put it in the phone and transfer my photos into it. He opened the picture file and there is my wife smiling at me. I lost it and morphed into a babbling spectacle at, of all places,  Walmart. A nice little crowd gathered for my impromptu performance but kept their distance. Hey, I might have been a lunatic or an old terrorist … whatever. You get the picture (pun intended). I was told by the facilitator of a bereavement group that my reaction was perfectly normal. Maybe it was, but I sure was embarrassed.

 

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We come face to face with a journey we all must take

The point is, as Catholic Christians, we all witness death during our lives. And we should remember that seeing death brings us face to face with a journey we all must make. Grief is an internal process, and everyone experiences it in their own unique way. We all know of the Resurrection and the reward of eternal life. However, it can be tough to deal with when you get hit with the personal impact of a loved one’s death and the grief that instantly explodes inside you.

 

What she did for all of us is indescribable

Time and prayer help heal those deep wounds. But days come and go and it does happen. We are mortal humans. We must feel the pain. Imagine how our Blessed Mother felt watching them torture and kill her Son. What she did for all of us is indescribable.

Belief in the resurrection of the dead has been an essential element of the Christian faith from its beginnings. “The confidence of Christians is the resurrection of the dead; believing this we live.” (CCC 991)

 

We should never forget this. Do not be afraid—the Eternal Now awaits us all. It will be a wondrous place indeed.


Copyright©Larry Peterson 2023
Images: Pexels

Faithful Expectations

Faithful Expectations

 As a new author, it is sometimes difficult to know what I should expect or what is expected of me. I recently faced this in a casual conversation when I was told I sounded calm, confident, and optimistic. My faith is the backbone of how I respond to situations in my life. Even so, I face times when I am overwhelmed with an experience or result.

I firmly believe that God places us exactly where He wants us to be. These moments might be fleeting, life-changing, or teachable. Like everyone else, life has thrown a myriad of events at me, some of which I knew exactly what to expect and others a mystery. I smile knowing that the recent conversation was not only teachable but also a way to complete my task. In struggling with a writing topic and hearing what I was saying in the throes of that conversation, God turned the light on!

Expectation packs a big punch as it often creates a significant emotional response. Some types of expectations are joyful, while others can generate an emotion of fear. Looking back on events in my life, I can see a circumstance that I believe God used to groom me for the role of an author who faces expectations with a heart of faith.  It was during a time when I was a “stage mom,” which, to most, sounds exciting, and at times it was. However, there were honest moments when all I wanted to do was wait in fear rather than hope.

The journey through auditions, learning lines, and prep sessions were quite the experience. I knew my son and I would need a positive mindset to thrive. We treated each day and audition as one moment, releasing it from our headspace at completion. Some were harder than others, but we did an excellent job of living in a way that allowed us to expect happiness.

Another instance I recall is physical. I was “voluntold” through a persistent friend to participate in a healthy weight program. The journey consisted of several months of intense training and proper eating habits. I was reluctant about what the outcome would look like and had no clear expectations. In a nutshell, the journey strengthened me, not only physically but emotionally as well. The expectations I felt along the way were nowhere near the positive outcome, and for that, I can see the blessings.

Both of these examples impacted where I am today, serving as a preparatory phase in which I can draw strength and wisdom.  Learning to be patient with God’s timing and enjoy where He is taking me is the fruit of where He placed me in the past. I consider both of these events equally life-changing and educational.

Fleeting moments of the audition process and the pains of exercise are reminders that moments in our life go by quickly. As painful as they may seem in the moment, there is light to look forward. The skills I use today as an author, secretary, and spiritual director are directly inherent in the teachable moments through God’s Grace. My life changes by faithfully understanding God knows my heart and will work all things for my good.

Preparation plays a vital role in a mindset of faithful expectation and should be focused and balanced. Consider preparing for a job interview or the possibility of authoring successfully. There are many ways to go about it, some will over-prepare to expect the worst, and others will do the bare minimum. Looking at an outcome with faithful expectations will generate positive and heartfelt responses. These emotional considerations will bring about mindful preparatory phases, culminating in joyful experiences. The overarching goal is an outcome that is God-centered, realistic, and built on the foundation of faith.

I can’t think of a better time than right now to fully embrace the practice of faithful expectation. At the beginning of a new year, a gift in itself is another opportunity placed into our hands to go big or go home! Jump in wherever God has placed you armed with a heart of faithfully expecting God is doing beautiful things for you and through you.  I know the next time I am up against a deadline or struggle, God is right there with His finger on the switch, and the light will shine at just the right moment!


Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Image Copyright Canva

Book Review: A new Catholic Chapter Book Series

Saint Joseph, The Foster-Father Saint, is the first in the Adventures with the Saints Series. Maria Riley takes the young reader on a journey into God’s word. Using honest and factual situational instances, Maria eloquently describes the foster care process through adoption. Throughout the story, the genuine love of family is highlighted between Joshua, the foster child, and his soon-to-be forever family. How Maria guides the young reader into this family is endearing and easily understood, appealing to a third-grade reading level.

Aside from the feelings of comfort Joshua receives once he joins this family in foster care are gems of inspiration and events which educate and enhance the knowledge of God and His love.  Valuable lessons are woven throughout each chapter, which benefits not only Joshua but also his new siblings. These instances are portrayed in adventurous ways and have a powerful effect.

Many aspects of family life during the adoption process are depicted honestly and give the reader a look into the child’s heart. This is likely due to Maria’s deep love for all her children, even though they didn’t come to her the same way.  Maria and her husband were foster parents and adopted three of her four daughters through foster care.

“You are a gift from God, and I thank God every day for giving me the precious gift of you.”

As the “adventure” unfolds, Maria brings the reader into the biblical story just after the birth of Jesus. It is in this endearing moment when the importance of God’s love for all His children is brought to the forefront. The many educational opportunities within this story are perfect for the intended reading level and beyond. As an adult, reading the story with child-like faith brought me deeper into the loving relationship between St. Joseph and baby Jesus.

The effects the adventure has on the three children differ depending on their ages, and this compares wonderfully to how God’s word affects us all in different ways.  As a mom of three adult children, being reminded that my children are not only mine but belong to God was eye-opening. Children may outgrow the parent/child relationship; however, when a child is brought up in the love of God, spiritual growth is never-ending. This valuable lesson for parents is hidden within the creativity of Maria’s writing.

My favorite parent moment happens in the last chapter when Molly, their mom, enters the scene after the children have expressed their feelings to one another. Upon listening to the children honestly express what they had been up to that afternoon, Molly does not discount any of it. Instead, she responds with excitement, joy, and genuine interest in hearing about their conversations with the beloved saint.

As the first in the series, Saint Joseph, The Foster-Father Saint, is a blessing for all families, not only those involved in foster care!  St. Joseph, The Foster-Father Saint, releases in November 2022, with more series installments in a few months. 

You can purchase the book on Amazon or at MariaRileyAuthor.com.

(Mis)interpreting God’s Will

(Mis)interpreting God’s Will

 

About eight months ago, my husband was laid off. Thankfully, he was given a three-month severance, so we were not immediately strained. However, I’m a stay-at-home-mom with our four daughters, and the reality of not having an income felt overwhelming and stressful. Even if we don’t worship money and make it our priority, we still need it to pay the bills.

Before he was let go, my husband had started really struggling with his job, and had actually already started looking for work elsewhere. This layoff, we thought, was a beautiful gift from God to allow him to spend more time applying and interviewing to find the right position for him. We both felt confident that he would secure a new position before the severance expired.

As the first three months drew to a close, with not a single job offer despite more than fifty applications submitted and countless interviews, our hearts started to listen for God’s will taking us in a different direction. Maybe, I suggested one day, we could look into long-term missionary work. My husband, surprisingly, didn’t disagree.

I began researching companies and found one that seemed to be the right fit. We submitted an application, completed the initial interview, and began the official discernment process. We thought we had figured out the meaning of his job loss. God wanted to clear the path so we could become full-time missionaries.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that four kids who would be between 13 and 9 would not thrive in that environment. At this point, I fell into despair. If my husband didn’t lose his job to find a better one, and not so we could become missionaries, what was the meaning of it all? Why, God? We felt entirely ready to do His will, but for the life of us, we just couldn’t figure that out.

Then, with his newfound free time, my husband agreed to help support me in the endeavor of self-publishing my first children’s chapter book. The process has been arduous. As it turns out, the writing is actually a very small portion of publishing. But with my husband’s encouragement, accountability, support, and technical know-how, I am now a published author with more books for the series in the pipeline. My book is a special piece of my heart that I’ve written for my children, and I know that God has willed it into existence.

A year ago, being a published author was a dream I hoped might happen in three to five years―if ever. Today, I’m autographing books for kids across the county. Yet this book won’t pay the bills (they rarely do), and I honestly don’t know what the future holds for us. For today, I’ve stopped trying to figure it out. I don’t know what doors will close and what windows will fly open. All I know is that God will take care of us.

 

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Sometimes I get so caught up in understanding the meaning of everything and wanting to know the future, that I forget that God is the present. When He spoke to Moses, He said “I AM” (cf. Exodus 3:14). He didn’t say, “I WAS.” He didn’t say, “I WILL BE.” God is always and forever the present tense. Today, we have a roof over our heads, food in the pantry, and more to rejoice over than there are minutes in the day. Today, I will write as I am commanded, and do whatever He tells me. And if I can do that again tomorrow and the day after, He will continue to provide.

I’m sure I’m not done misinterpreting God’s Will in my life. Each time, I pray that I will recognize my folly and recenter myself in His present will. I pray I continue doing today what is asked of me, and trusting that even though I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, I have nothing to fear.

 


Copyright 2022 Maria Riley
Images:Uoaei1, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons; Eekim, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Step Out Like a Caterpillar and Fly

Step Out Like a Caterpillar and Fly

Does the caterpillar know transformation is imminent? I imagine it has no idea that change is about to take place, and soon it will be something more beautiful than it was. 

I have spent many years focused on the beauty of the butterfly, though some would call it an obsession rather than mere interest. I first fell in love with the butterfly during a life trial when I learned the spiritual significance of re-birth, new life, and transformation. I strived every day to be the butterfly.

Over several years, my faith and time with God blossomed, and He blessed me with new friends and relationships. I committed to living as a butterfly by reinventing aspects of my life and living in the ways I felt God calling me. Little did I know that God was preparing me for something bigger, something unexpected, and something I’ll never forget.

Many times on my journey of becoming the butterfly I thought I had reached transformation, only to be struck down by life again. I never anticipated life as a butterfly as perfect. I had visited butterfly houses on many occasions and witnessed broken wings, or simply those that had reached life expectancy.

What needed to transform was how I handled life’s struggles. I’m not an expert, but I imagine the caterpillar does not need to prepare for transformation. Likewise, many times we do not see or anticipate the upcoming circumstances that will be life-changing. When a storm comes, we are thrown in without knowing when we will come out of it. This is similar to how the caterpillar observes its situation inside the chrysalis.

One day in a moment of prayer, God revealed that my focus needed to shift from wanting to be the butterfly to living as the caterpillar. Soon I knew the change would entail embracing every struggle knowing that in the end, God would bless me with something better and more beautiful. I began imagining how a caterpillar might react to God’s instruction and focused my efforts on becoming a new and improved version of my old self.

Becoming Bella was my new way of life; in Italian, Bella means beautiful. I did all I could to bring God with me into every struggle; thus, it would become beautiful. I learned to treat each battle or bump in the road of life as a gift. One where God would reveal the lesson or blessing, allowing the caterpillar within to emerge and fly as the butterfly God prepared it to be.

I learned so much through this way of thinking, and every new day God blesses me with more insight into life as a caterpillar. This way of living and thinking takes courage, and I can’t think of anything more wonderful than a courageous caterpillar! 

Sitting in a room full of butterflies, I can see where the caterpillar lives. I wonder whether the caterpillar knew it was going to become a butterfly. I meditate on that and consider the first thought once emerging from the chrysalis, “is this the end or the beginning of something new?”

Images Copyright 2022 Canva

The Passion of Christ

The Passion of Christ

These days the media seems to besiege us with headlines about the next terrible plague. Whether it’s the latest Covid variant or a new, horrible pox, it’s challenging not to become anxious. We shudder, and continue to pray that we and our families will be spared.

Imagine living in the seventeenth century Alps. Already ravaged by the Thirty Years’ War, Bavarian villagers learn that the Black Plague has come to town, in the person of a foreign peddler. They know that this frightening new disease has killed entire populations throughout the region. What will they do?

In 1633, the citizens of the Catholic village of Oberammergau, Germany, made a communal promise to God. If he saw fit to spare their town, if no one in the village died of the plague over the next twelve months, they would perform a play about the passion of Christ every tenth year, in perpetuity.

The first Oberammergau Passion Play to fulfill that offering was staged in 1634. Their promise has been faithfully kept for almost 400 years. (For more information, visit www.passionsspiele-oberammergau.de/en/home.)

Both the script and the methods of performance have evolved over the centuries. But even today, the play is still performed in its historical style of tableau. It is presented in two parts, each two-and-a-half hours long, with a break for dinner in between.

Every actor must have been born in the village, and nearly every native citizen is included somewhere in the ensemble of players.

In 2019, I watched a video of the casting ceremony for the 2020, now 2022, performances.

With an altar server carrying the crucifix before him, the parish pastor processed out of his church into the village square. The entire platz was filled with townspeople. Gathered to hear him announce the names of the persons chosen to portray the most illustrious characters, they maintained absolute silence.

The priest stopped next to the village school teacher; a young woman attired in an impeccably-pressed shirtwaist dress.  She was poised at a large blackboard, already prepared with the names of the major characters, to write the names. An alternate was also chosen for each role, in order to sustain the lengthy performance season, five days a week from May to October.

As the teacher carefully inscribed each name in exquisite handwriting, no cheers or congratulations marred the solemnity of the occasion. Only a few murmurs of satisfaction, or mild disappointment, could be heard on the film.

I’m still hoping and praying to attend the 2022 Passion Play this September.

In 2018, when my travel companion and I first began to consider our mutual bucket list trip, we were both in perfect health. Then the originally scheduled 2020 event was postponed to 2022 because of the world-wide Covid-19 pandemic.

Recently, just as our long-awaited dreams seemed about to become reality, my travel companion sustained injuries in a bicycle accident. The same week in July, I sprained an ankle.

As I walked down the hall of my apartment building a couple of nights ago, I ran into a friend who is over ninety years old. She was working out a pain in her hip at the same time I was exercising my sprained ankle.

She said, “I’ll give you my Oberammergau jacket.”

I looked at her tiny frame, then at my own considerably more substantial one, and said, “Thank you so much. But I don’t think it will fit me.”

She told me that she had attended the Oberammergau Passion Play in her younger years. After we conversed with awe about the endurance of this Bavarian tradition, she shared a parting thought about her own pilgrimage.

“I always think of that time as a special privilege.”

Both of my friends regularly take advantage of the opportunities offered to us all as Catholics, to attend mass and to be active serving neighbors in urban villages that can operate like small towns.

As I reflected on her words, I heard a message from the Holy Spirit.

At every mass, in every liturgical season, we have motivation to gather as a living community, just as the townspeople do in alpine villages like Oberammergau. We have daily chances to meditate on the passion of Christ at every mass.

It’s because the people of Oberammergau do these things that they have been able to keep a four-century-old promise, generation after generation.

It really doesn’t matter if health challenges, personal finances, family responsibilities, or the world situation allow us to travel to Jerusalem or Oberammergau – or not.

Christ’s loving offering of his passion for our salvation is eternal.

He comes to us every day, on every altar, wherever and whenever the eucharist is celebrated.

How blessed we are, indeed, by that special privilege.

 

Copyright 2022 by Margaret Zacharias 

A Committed Heart

Kimberly Novak reflects on the commitment of Jesus made perfect without sin.

A committed heart finds a way, whereas an un-committed heart makes excuses.  This month we celebrate the Precious Blood of Jesus, an unblemished promise poured out to forgive sins. My relationship with God tells me that this is a commitment unlike anyone could ever imagine or pledge.  A gift that is guaranteed to those who commit their heart to God through the treasured love of Jesus.

As we arise each day, God sends blessings and graces through thoughts, circumstances, and longings, often leading to a choice or commitment.   It is easy to begin daily with the mindset to accomplish great things. Undoubtedly, this is short-lived when the day’s events cut down a motivated heart.

In my mind, a hopeful heart is a committed heart.  One that looks at the bright side of every circumstance, no matter what.  I like to consider that was the mindset of my Lord as He made the ultimate sacrifice. Jesus, perfect without sin, made a sacrificial commitment, all for the Glory of God. 

Committing involves dedicating or obligating yourself to something or someone.  It is a promise made to yourself, another, or our Heavenly Father. Recently, I’ve found myself in a group fitness challenge. I committed to 13 other individuals to do my best and accomplish the exercise goal each day.  This encouragement is often successful, as the benefit outweighs letting someone down.

There are many instances in life where we can apply this type of motivation, from diet, exercise, job focus, family, and our time spent with God. These examples are necessary for maintaining a positive balance in our lives.  Also, all of which require a committed heart. Jesus’ commitment to us was a great love, given freely and without hesitation.  How then might we strive to commit ourselves to the things God is calling us toward in this life?

We must consider commitment in the following ways.  Firstly, where does daily duty lie, and is God a part of that? The point is moot without God as the central purpose of what we allow ourselves to do daily.  When our responsibilities become overwhelming, following this rule of finding God in them will help simplify and remove an obligation not meant for us.

Secondly, where does daily un-commitment showup, and how can God help control those excuses? There are countless circumstances when it becomes easy to slack off, skip a day, or make a promise to do something later.  When it is hard to follow through, perhaps, reflecting on what excuses might look like to God will prove helpful.  

Soon, thoughts and reasons transform into nurturing a committed heart through consistent prayer and an ongoing relationship with God. Through the Holy Spirit, beauty takes hold as God reveals where to focus responsibility. Before we know it, decisions are in partnership with God, commitments are God-Centered, and every day is lived all in God’s Glory.  How wonderful that must look to our God in heaven!

Even Scraps, Received in Faith, Bring Healing

The woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth, and she begged him to drive the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first. For it is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” She replied and said to him, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.” Then he said to her, “For saying this, you may go. The demon has gone out of your daughter.” When the woman went home, she found the child lying in bed and the demon gone. ~ Mark 7:26-30

 

 

How many demons do we need Jesus to drive out? Do you struggle with insecurity, anxiety, uncertainty, maybe addiction, a difficult relationship, or financial crisis? How remarkable that even the smallest grace from Jesus, the scraps, has the power to transform our life.  Imagine the possible freedom awaiting us if we embraced even a tiny bit of the blessings Jesus has to offer us.  The gifts available from heaven are abundant, meaning we do not need to settle for the crumbs, yet if that were all we allowed ourselves to dine upon we’d still be filled.

Our lives would not be perfect or free from those things that worry, concern, or pain us, but there would be a sense of inner peace and hope that can only come from heaven.  The woman came to Jesus prepared to be persistent, humble, and assured.  Persistent in her begging; humble enough to address Him as Lord and take whatever scraps He offered; and surely she believed what He said was done because she left for home at His command. When was the last time I approached Jesus in that way—begging for some assistance, humbled by His majesty and glory, and yet completely sure that I would, in some way, receive a blessing? Confident in Jesus’ answer to my prayer, regardless of what I sought, accepting the scraps falling from the heavenly banquet?

So, what holds us back from being fed by Jesus? Feeling, perhaps, unworthy of even the crumbs from His table? How can the Syrophoenician woman’s example encourage us to approach Jesus for assistance in whatever demons we are trying to eradicate from our lives?

Jesus, I believe that you have so much more to offer me than I am ever able to accept. Lord, I thank you for calling me to your banquet, and whether I put myself at the table for the feast or at your feet for the crumbs, help me to be always assured I will never be without your blessing and grace.