Devotions

I steal away to sun and sand—

A quiet, calming land.

My Father takes me by the hand

And makes my spirit light.

This desert place—so silent, sweet—

Invites me to retreat.

 A land of rest, a space to meet

My Love, my Life, my Light.

When city streets embed their dust

A place awaits! I must

Depart and seek the heart I trust—

Amid that land of light.

Silencing the Squeal

You might hear this saying at butchering time: “You can use every part of the pig except the squeal.” But recently I found that even the squeal can have a purpose. 

For months our truck had been squealing for attention. It started off as one little piglet’s plaintive serenade, but we somehow thought it would disappear on its own. Over time, however, bigger, louder pigs joined the chorus. And one Saturday their squealing reached a crescendo.

After investigating the matter, my husband determined that the squealing was probably due to a bad bearing, and a couple of parts would therefore need to be replaced. We stopped at the auto-parts store to find out what they would cost. A helpful employee confirmed that replacing those parts would most likely stop the squealing, but … did we really want to spend the money now? I mean, the squealing had been going on for a while already and nothing bad had happened yet. 

We decided to put off buying the parts, so we pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the gas station. My husband filled the tank; the truck was still squealing away when he started it up again. He returned from paying for the gas and a passerby called out, “Is that your truck?” My husband admitted that it was. “Your bearing’s bad; if it seizes, your belt will fly off.” Hmm. That confirmed the bad-bearing theory yet again, and our truck would become inoperable once the belt came off. We knew we did not want that to happen. And since we would have no control over the timing, we headed back to the auto-parts store.

The new parts silenced the squeal, but this story does not end there. What happened made me think of how patient God is, how He cares about even the little details of life. And yet I sometimes worry—especially at three o’clock in the morning. The “what-ifs” start squealing for my attention, and I think about all the things that could go wrong in my life.

One day I reflected on the fact that children do not need to worry about anything, and I wished I could return to that carefree phase of life. I knew my parents would provide for me; I knew they loved me enough to want the best. Then it hit me: But, wait! I am God’s child. He promises to meet my needs; He loves me even more than any earthly parent ever could. And when our truck needed attention, He had taken the time to remind me that He cares about even the little things in life, just as a good parent does. I need to remember that—especially when the “what-ifs” start squealing at three o’clock in the morning.

Cast Your Crown

“You did a good job,” announces an encouraging friend.

“Thank you,” is what you say.

You accept the crown he handed you; then you cast it down.  

Thank You, is what you pray.

Instead of to your head, the compliment goes to your heart.

 Spill It

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9 KJV).

Do you like that fresh, inky scent of a new book? Or do you prefer that dusty, musty fragrance of a library book? I like both, but sometimes a food stain interferes with that bookish scent.

Last summer a friend sent me a box of used books as a gift. On one especially interesting book she had placed a sticky note, explaining that the previous owner had spilled coffee or chocolate pudding on the pages. A quick sniff suggested that chocolate pudding was the culprit.

And recently my son had set one of my Rose Wilder books on the kitchen floor, pausing in his reading to enjoy a freeze pop. Later he quietly confessed that he had spilled a few freeze-pop drops on my book. Suddenly In the Land of the Big Red Apple had become In the Land of the Big Purple Freeze Pop.

Because I had been told about those smudges, they were much less distressing when I came across them in those books. But what if those marks had been an unpleasant surprise? What if nobody had ever admitted to the besmirching of my books? For both parties, there is something refreshing about confession.

What about the many marks on the pages of my life? Every day the Christian sins; every day we spatter our pages with dribbles and drops. But when we confess those sins to God, our fellowship with Him becomes as fresh and inviting as the pages of a new book.