Lasagna and Lot

I recently discovered oven-ready lasagna noodles; you arrange these in the pan without having to boil them first. The only problem was that when I bit into the finished product, the noodles crunched. Reflecting on this later, I began to wonder if the pasta box contained instructions that I had neglected to read—it did. The dish had required extra liquid to properly soften the noodles. But the next time I made lasagna with oven-ready noodles, I overcompensated and the dish came out somewhat soupy instead.

Somehow my lasagna adventures reminded me of Lot’s life. I recently came across a book title that seemed to question why Peter referred to Lot as “just” and “righteous”; other times I’ve heard of those who hold up Lot as an example of a fruitless child of God.

But there is no doubt that Lot trusted in his coming Savior, since this fact is confirmed in the New Testament. Besides that, Lot’s righteousness was imputed to him.

And Lot did indeed differ from his neighbors, which is the fruit of faith. Their wicked ways vexed Lot daily, and he ultimately fled that sinful city without looking back.

In the Bible we have been given the perfect recipe for the Christian life. And yet because of yielding to the flesh, sometimes the noodles swim in sauce. Other times I experience a disconcerting crunch. But like Lot, I am not depending on my own attempts to follow the recipe perfectly: I am depending on the One who did.

Ever-Present Power

The recent rain and wind storm took its toll on Maine, but soon calm weather returned. And on a peaceful, seasonably warm morning eight days later, the power decided to go out again. I called to report the outage. A recording announced, however, that nobody would be responding to new outages, because the utility workers were still busy with old ones from the storm. I hoped this might be outdated information, yet the words seemed to be confirmed by the phone system refusing to let me leave a message about the outage—something I usually do when the power goes out.

Would we join other Mainers who had been without power for more than a week? I knew Someone, though, with power and plenty of time to hear my plea: I got on my knees.

A few minutes later I again tried to report the outage; this time I waited to speak with somebody. The dispatcher told me that a car had hit a pole and that power would be restored in an hour. The lights came on even sooner than that.

God’s power never goes out. He answers His children’s prayers and cares about their every need.

The Storm Subsides

December weather in northern Maine often involves snow and frigid air; on Monday, however, the rain poured and the wind roared. The lights went out several times that day; outside it sounded as if a couple of angry giants were trying to rip off the roof and knock down the walls.

The next day at breakfast time, someone spied a speck of blue sky; later the sun peeked out and then decided to stay. Would this calm day have brought such peace if it had not been for the contrast of the preceding rain and wild wind?

Start with the Heart

Where should I start? At the beginning, of course. But where, exactly, is the beginning? When writing a story, starting can seem intimidating, impossible. Yet an intriguing idea nudging the author’s heart will often somehow initiate a story’s start.
 
God, too, is writing a story. When we hand Him the pen, we can trust that He will write our life’s story way better than we ever could.
 
Of course, this handing-over-the-pen process is no easy task for humans, because somehow the flesh supposes it knows what is best. Ridiculous, yes. Yet if we have already handed over our heart to the Lord, why not trust Him to write our story’s beginning, middle, and end—without trying to take back the pen?

Remember to Forget

When I pulled a new book from its shelf, the back cover of a neighboring atlas flew out. I knew that paperback of maps I purchased in the early 1990s lurked somewhere in the bookcase, but I had not expected the past to fly in my face when reaching for something else.

Sometimes we linger too long on the past. In Philippians 3:13-14, Paul points out how to deal with distractions that come from dwelling in a detrimental way on yesterday: “Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

The Slippery Slope

I had heard my husband’s warning that night: “It’s slippery out there.” But I said that I would go slowly. I said that if it was really that bad, I would return for ice cleats, maybe even trekking poles. And I did creep carefully along, inching my way toward the barn. Then I began to shuffle down that little hill. Suddenly my boot slipped, my left arm waved wildly in the air as I tried to regain my balance, and SPLAT! I sat down hard on the snow-covered hill. “MISTAKE! MISTAKE!” I howled, hoping somebody would hear me. My arm throbbed with pain and my clothes were cold and wet. 

Apparently someone had heard something—what was it? My son peered out the window and saw a silhouette of his mother sitting there on the snowy hillside; soon he arrived to escort me back inside. When I finally hobbled into the house, my husband reminded me of his admonition and promptly placed ice cleats on my boots.

In the Christian life, sometimes we ignore the warning, we slip, we fall. But thankfully when we confess our fault, our heavenly Father forgives us and reaches out His almighty hand to help us up.