Tag: Own effort

Holding Me Up

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

My 3 year old daughter ducked into the large cardboard box sitting in our living room.

We had transformed it into a simple house by setting it on its side to use the top flaps as doors. Additionally, on one side, we cut a small window, leaving a flap that could open and close. On the other side, we added a small side door.

She pushed the window flap open and peeked out.

My 1 year old son saw her peeking and laughed. He pointed at her as he toddled over.

Crouching, he entered the box.

My daughter vacated through the side door.

Circling to the other side, she peeked in the window making them both laugh.

My son gripped the bottom of the window and began leaning against the side of the box as their game of peek-a-boo continued.

Sitting nearby, I noticed his leaning was beginning to tip the whole box.

Reaching out, I held tight to the opposite side of the box as he leaned even further.

I felt the pull of the box. It would have tipped had I not been stabilizing it.

My son, however, was blissfully unaware of my rescue as he laughed and peeked out the window at my daughter again.

I glanced over at my husband who sat nearby and had observed the whole thing, saying, “He has no idea someone is holding him up.”

What about me? Do I know that Someone is holding me up? Do I acknowledge and thank Him? Or do I assume it is my own efforts holding me up?

Throughout the Bible, we see God taking care of His people again and again. Sometimes it is blatantly obvious to the people involved, sometimes it is not.

Perhaps Psalm 23 is one of the most beautiful passages depicting this.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for His name’s sake.

 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff,

they comfort me.

 

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

(Psalm 23 ESV)

God is taking care of me in the same way a shepherd cares for their sheep.

I need not worry. God is holding me up.

Does that mean my life will be trouble-free and easy? Not at all.

The following evening, as my son was again peeking out the window. He leaned against the side in the same fashion as the story above.

This time, however, I was not holding onto the box.

Over it tipped, with my 1 year old inside.

He cried as I helped him crawl out, though I suspect his tears were more from the scare than from pain.

Later, I observed him peeking out the window a third time. This time he felt the box begin to shift and pulled back from leaning on it.

He glanced at me for reassurance.

I applauded his discernment and quick learning. He has not tipped it over again.

Often in life, when hardships happen, they are not a specific result of my actions. Sometimes, however, they are a direct consequence of something I have done (like for my 1 year old in the story).

Sometimes God protects me from the consequences of my actions. Sometimes He does not.

Regardless of the cause, when I face trials, God wants to be at work in me. He wants me to be learning and growing.

If, like my 1 year old, the trial is a result of my own foolishness, God wants me to learn better wisdom and discernment.

If the trouble is not because of something I have done, God still wants to be working in me.

That is why James says:

“Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:2-4 CSB)

Am I facing great difficulties today? May I press into Jesus knowing that as I do so, He will be working to transform me from the inside out. He is holding me up.

Am I in a peaceful and seemingly easy season of life right now? May I be intentional to pursue Jesus, growing in knowledge of the truth and in healthy Biblical habits, not forgetting to thank and praise Him. He is holding me up.

Have you memorized Psalm 23? If not, I urge you to do so. Here’s a great song, by Zac Fitzsimmons, to help you memorize the chapter. You can watch it below or find it on Spotify here.

 

Not The Garbage!

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I placed the loaf of bread in the fridge and returned to the table to clear the rest of the breakfast items. Happy chatter reached my ears from where my older child played in the other room.

I glanced at my baby as he crawled around the kitchen floor exploring the toys left out for that very purpose.

Opening the dishwasher, I quickly put the dishes and cutlery in.

My baby made a beeline for the dishwasher.

“You’re getting faster,” I said, “but I’m all done with the dishwasher already.”

He fussed when I closed it before he could climb in.

Crouching beside him, I drove a car back and forth. “Vroom… Vroom…”

It only took a moment before he was reaching for the car.

“Yes, you can have the car. I need to finish clearing the table.” Fetching the dishcloth, I returned to the table and began wiping it.

I heard a thump.

Looking over, I observed my baby standing against the under-the-sink cupboard, pulling at its handle.

Pulling the door open, he peeked inside. Intrigued, he pulled it open further then dropped to his hands and knees to investigate.

I stepped around the table to wipe the far side.

He reached for the dustpan and broom I kept in the cupboard.

I spoke lightly, “You can look at that, just don’t suck on it please.”

His interest didn’t last long. Setting the dustpan aside, he looked up at the garbage can. He reached for the fresh bag my husband had put in the can.

“No, that’s not for you,” I spoke from the opposite side of the table.

My baby couldn’t quite reach the bag from where he sat. He shifted closer and reached again.

Disregarding the dishcloth, I hurried to his side.

“No,” I stated firmly, pulling his hand away from the garbage.

He looked at me, then reached for the bag again.

“No,” I said again.

He reached for it another time.

“No. That’s the garbage. That’s not for you. Here, you can hold the dustpan.” I tapped the dustpan loudly.

Yet again he reached for the garbage.

This time, I pulled him away from the garbage and closed the cupboard. “No. The garbage is not for you. Find something else to play with.”

He fussed.

I rolled a ball towards him, but he barely noticed. He was too busy heading back for the cupboard and pulling himself up against it.

I held the cupboard shut as he tugged on the handles.

His fussing turned to crying.

I scooped him up.

“Silly boy. Garbage is not good for you. Come, let’s find something better for you.” I carried him to the living room in search of a more engaging toy.

It was only later, after more run-ins of a similar nature, that I noticed the allegory hidden in these moments.

I love my son. I want what is best for him. When he wants to play with garbage, I say “no.”

The same is true of God. Our Heavenly Father is a loving God. He loves us so much that when we want to play with garbage, He says “no.”

As the parent of a very busy baby, I am considering putting locks on that cupboard to prevent him from opening it.

God, however, gives us the freedom to choose to comply with His “no.”

In my day-to-day life, what does this mean?

First off, in His Word, God has given me many laws and guidelines to live by. I’m sure you can name several of them.

“Do not murder.

Do not commit adultery.

Do not steal.” (Deuteronomy 5:17-19 CSB)

I could go on.

Why does God give me these laws? Because He knows they will keep me away from garbage.

Garbage is not good for me.

Beyond that, God sometimes replies to my prayer requests regarding specific situations or desires with “no.”

So often it is hard to understand why He says no when it is something I long for.

In the story I shared, my baby had absolutely no comprehension that the garbage can was not good for him. He got frustrated when I pulled him away from it. He cried.

Sometimes I must simply trust that God sees the bigger picture. He knows what the future holds. He knows what is best.

Yet it can be so hard to trust when the “no” makes no sense to me. I may feel frustrated, disappointed, and discouraged. I may cry. I need to take these feelings straight to God as the Psalmists so often did.

As I take these emotions to God, He will help me trust Him when He says:

“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts,

and your ways are not My ways.’

This is the Lord’s declaration.

‘For as heaven is higher than earth,

so My ways are higher than your ways,

and My thoughts than your thoughts.'” (Isaiah 55:8-9 CSB)

Today, may I abide by the rules and guidelines God has laid out in His Word. Beyond that, when God says, “no,” may I trust that He knows what is best, even when I don’t understand.

Clogged Drains

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I ignored the flash of lightning and tried to hide my concern about the heavy pattering of rain as I helped my toddler into her pajamas.

My husband headed downstairs to check how the drain in our driveway was doing. He returned with good news. The drain was keeping up with the rain. No sign of flooding.

Cheerfully, my husband proceeded with our toddler’s bedtime routine while I prepared to settle our baby for the night.

Once our toddler was in bed, my husband decided to check the drain again. His return wasn’t so quick this time.

Instead of hearing his footsteps coming, my phone buzzed. He had sent me a video.

It was a 3 second video of water flowing over the doormat just outside our door.

That’s not good!

My phone buzzed again.

This time it was a photo of water beginning to seep under our garage door.

I hurried to finish putting the baby down.

Before I finished, my husband came in.

“I pulled the drain cover off. It’s working now.” He crossed the room.

“Good!” I replied.

“The next door neighbours opened their door at the same time,” he continued. “They swept off their drain. It’s working now as well.”

He reached for his flashlight.

“The main drain on the street is backing up. If it doesn’t get moving, it’ll flood soon and then our drain won’t be able to keep up.”

“Uh oh.”

“I’m going back out.”

“Okay. I’ll come too.”

By the time I got downstairs (baby monitor in hand), my husband had pulled on rubber boots and a raincoat and was heading outside with a broom.

I followed suit.

When I got outside, I spotted my husband standing some distance away on another neighbour’s driveway. The lightning had moved on, but the rain still poured down.

I glanced at our drain. It was keeping up, but the water on the road was nearing the brink. Soon it might overflow to our little drain. Then what?

I watched my husband gesturing. Evidently he could see the neighbour through the window.

From where I stood, I could see why this neighbour hadn’t opened their door. A lake of water, deeper than their doorstep, pressed against their door.

Something must be wrong with their drain.

Spotting me, my husband came over.

“He already has his drain cover off, but it’s still not working. He’s mopping inside his door.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Not really since his drain isn’t working.”

Gesturing toward the growing pond on the road, my husband continued.

“I tried to get the main drain going. I stuck the broom handle down as far as it could reach, but there was nothing. The jam must be further down, or the volume of water is simply too much for the drainage system. If it gets much higher, we’ll be in trouble.”

Just then, a car drove by. The wave it caused in the pool crested over the edge of our driveway and down towards our drain. Thankfully it was a small wave.

We spotted yet another neighbour staring at his driveway drain from a distance. We walked over.

Evidently he’d used the door on the other side of his house to get out. The pool on his driveway was several inches up his front door and his garage door.

My husband offered to try to help.

The man shrugged. “You can try, but I don’t think anything will help. I have an inch of water in my garage already.”

My husband poked at the drain with the broom handle to no avail.

We stood chatting with the man as we helplessly watched the pool of water.

Eventually we noticed that the water line was receding slowly, very slowly.

I glanced back at the road. That puddle, too, was draining away.

Our property had weathered the storm sufficiently, unlike some of our neighbours who now had to deal with clean up and repairs. The question on our minds was “How can we prepare now to make sure our home isn’t the one flooding next time.”

It wasn’t until nearly a week later, as I was praying about which allegory to write, that I noticed the lesson for me.

When I think of the rain as all the wear and tear of life, and the drain as my ability to pass those burdens to the Lord, the story holds a significant reminder.

God has invited me to cast all my cares upon Him. No, that’s not the right way to put it. “Invited” is too soft a word for it. I am instructed to cast my cares upon Him (1 Peter 5:7).

Am I casting my cares upon the Lord?

In the light rain shower of day-to-day life, only a small amount of water reaches my drain. If my drain (my ability to cast my cares upon Jesus) is slow, but existent, I can handle the small day-to-day trials without getting backed up or overwhelmed.

Even if my drain were totally clogged, the small puddle would dry up when the sun comes out and no one would know the difference.

The real test comes when a storm hits. Can my drain handle the huge volume of rain that gushes towards it? Or does a lake form, seeping into my home and thus causing damage.

In such a situation, sandbags could temporarily help. I could protect myself from water damage, but sandbags would also block the use of my door. I’d be cutting myself off from the good as well as the harm.

Indeed, even two weeks after the aforementioned storm, as I walked by my neighbour’s house, I noticed sandbags piled against her door. This rendered the door impassable, though the day was warm and sunny.

I don’t want to rely on sandbags to hold the water out. I want my drain to work so that I can give my burdens to Jesus.

Is there anything I can do now to help prepare for the storms of life that will undoubtedly come?

Yes.

For our driveway drain, keeping the area swept clean from debris – pinecones, flower petals, leaves, and so on – helps keep it from clogging.

Perhaps this symbolizes keeping my life free from sin (no matter how seemingly small) and grounded in the truth of God’s Word.

Sharing times of fellowship with other Christians certainly helps as well. We hadn’t known that we ought to sweep our driveway or that our drain cover could be removed until we observed a neighbour tending to his drain.

Sometimes, however, there is a deep underlying problem in my ability to cast my cares upon Jesus. In such cases, seeking help from a pastor, Christian counsellor, or other mature Christian may be needed.

This parallels the situation for my neighbours whose driveways flooded. A couple of days after the storm, I spotted a plumber assessing their clogged drains. Their clog was too big for them to fix on their own.

Oh, that I may learn to keep my drain functioning well so that when the storm comes, I may say with David:

“The LORD is my strength and my shield;

my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped.

Therefore my heart celebrates,

and I give thanks to Him with my song.”

Psalm 28:7 CSB

 

 

If you would like a real-life example of what this looks like, I highly recommend the book: “Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret” by Dr. Howard Taylor and Geraldine Taylor. It is available as a paperback, an audiobook, or on Kindle.

Life-Giving Water?

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I looked out the window as we sped along the highway. We’d left the forests and fruitful prairies of southern Alberta behind.

I stared across the barren hills of Montana. Even wild grass struggled to thrive here. There was not a house or building in sight.

This desolate landscape continued for mile after mile.

It changed, however, when the highway joined paths with the beginnings of the Missouri River.

As we zipped along the river valley, I observed lush trees and thriving farmland.

We drove past house after house clustered at the river’s edge. People were out on boats or busy tending their farms.

When I looked at the hills beyond the valley, I saw the same dry barren countryside with hardly a house to be found. Yet everywhere in the valley I saw vibrant colors of thriving plants and human habitation.

I marveled at the difference plentiful water makes. Good water is life-giving.

Then, hours later, we arrived in Yellowstone National Park.

(For those unfamiliar with the park, it is an area of the United States with volcanic history. Now, rather than lava, boiling water gurgles or sprays through holes in the ground. The water comes mixed with sulfur. The well-known geyser, Old Faithful, is only one of the many phenomenons to be witnessed.)

As we drove through the forests of Yellowstone National Park, I noticed a column of steam rising in the distance. As we got closer, we could see sputters of water bursting from the ground.

The runoff from this geyser poured over scaly white ground to a pool.

The steaming water from a nearby spring left orange build up where it trickled to join the pool.

I glanced at the trees in the area. They were ugly skeletons of branches. Not a speck of green could be found on them. They were bleached white and dead – oh so very dead.

As we drove on, we again passed through good forest with strong healthy trees interrupted by the occasional meadow of thick wild grass.

“Look! Bison.” I called as we came across another clearing.

The giant animals were grazing peacefully.

But then the landscape changed once again. Ugly skeleton trees stood ridged.

I looked around. Sure enough there was a nearby geyser spouting its venomous water.

Some days later, as we drove homeward, I pondered the things I’d seen.

I came to the question, “What type of water is flowing through me?”

Jesus offers Living Water (John 4).

That Living Water is like the river in Montana. Everywhere the river goes it brings life and abundance.

It doesn’t matter that the terrain the river cuts through is dry and barren – hardly habitable for humans. The river brings life with it.

Have I received that Living Water from Jesus today? Am I filled with it?

If I am filled with that Living Water, it will spill over bringing hope and encouragement to those around me.

Sometimes, however, I choose to do what the people of Israel did in Jeremiah’s day.

God declared: “They have abandoned Me, the fountain of living water, and dug cisterns for themselves…” (Jeremiah 2:13b CSB)

When I choose to try to do things myself rather than receiving the help God wants to give me, I quickly become like those geysers and springs in Yellowstone.

The water spouting from them is not life-giving. Regardless of how clear it may appear, it is venomous. It sucks the life out of nearby trees.

Indeed, the Norris Geyser Basin in Yellowstone has pools hot and acidic enough to melt through rubber boots and more.

So what will I choose today? Will I lean into Jesus to be filled with His Living Water, or will I try to do things on my own?

The Perfect Gift

Posted on by S. J. Little
A golden gift behind title: The Perfect Gift

 

Have you ever received a gift from someone that you didn’t know you wanted, but when you received it, it fit a need or want wonderfully?

That was my experience recently.

One morning last week, I glanced outside. I needed to drop some Christmas cards in the mail.

I checked the weather app on my phone. -17C with wind chill making it feel like -21C. That’s cold.

Despite the fact that the mailbox was not far away, I bundled up carefully. An extra sweater under my winter jacket, two layers of gloves, a neck warmer and a toque (or beanie for those of you not from Canada). I pulled on my winter boots. That ought to do it.

I frowned, however, when I zipped up my winter jacket. I’d worn the same sweater beneath it just the week before, but this time the zipper felt tighter.

You see, I’m pregnant. My middle is quickly expanding and now pushing the limits of my winter jacket.

I shrugged it off and headed outside.

The fresh air greeted me and the sun was shining, though it did nothing to melt the snow on the sidewalk.

I strolled to the mailbox and back, enjoying the outing.

As I stepped back into the house, I felt reluctant to leave the freshness of the outside world. My layering had worked. I wasn’t cold yet.

I glanced at the snow shovel sitting near the doorway. There wasn’t a lot of snow, but the sidewalk could use some shovelling. My husband would gladly do it, but he wouldn’t be off work until after dark and it would be colder then.

Deciding to go for it, I picked up the shovel and got to work. I was careful to go slow and not do much lifting as I cleared the sidewalk.

Not long afterwards, when I headed back inside, I smiled. How refreshing to have been outside and to have moved my muscles.

Later that day, when my husband got off work, I commented to him that I hoped my jacket would last the next week or two of colder weather, but wasn’t sure it would last much longer.

I figured that if I wore enough sweaters then I might be able to get by with having my winter jacket unzipped. Especially since we typically don’t have too many days that are so very cold. Alternatively, I could try buying a maternity winter jacket, but I wasn’t sold on the idea.

Anyways, that evening we visited with one of my sister-in-laws. As we prepared to part ways, she handed us some Christmas presents. The plan was to open them on Christmas day. However, she spoke up and insisted that I open mine before leaving.

I hesitated, but finally conceded.

When I opened the cutely decorated gift, I found a piece of fabric with zippers on it. Holding it up, I discovered it was a jacket insert.

Right away we tested it on my winter jacket. It fit well.

The insert attached to my jacket zipper on both sides, making the jacket bigger. Now I could continue to wear my jacket even as my middle grew larger.

I smiled. I had not thought to put anything like it on my Christmas wish list, yet it was exactly what I needed.

It was the perfect gift.

Gifts are on my mind a lot around Christmas time. I try to think of meaningful gifts others would appreciate. At the same time, my family asks me what I want, so I brainstorm a list of ideas.

There is a lot of shopping to do and sometimes coordinating to buy bigger gifts. Sometimes I think I’ve found the perfect gift for someone, other times I’m not so sure.

Then there are the many gifts that money can’t buy. The list of things to be grateful for is long. 

There are so many ways that God blesses us. Often we take them for granted and forget to say thanks.

Many of the gifts God gives us are similar to that perfect gift my sister-in-law gave me. It wasn’t something I had thought to ask for, but it met a need wonderfully and in the nick of time.

Around Christmas time, we often pause to remember the gift the Father gave us when He sent Jesus to be born on earth. Yet that gift would not matter much if it weren’t for what it led to.

It was when Jesus died on the cross and then rose again that God granted us the ultimate gift. It was a gift we didn’t know we needed, but He gave it to us at the perfect time.

The Bible tells us:

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 ESV)

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23 ESV)

This Christmas, beyond all the other gifts the season may bring, I want to celebrate the gift the Father gave us in sending Jesus to come in the flesh. Beyond that, I want to remember the ultimate perfect gift He gave us by taking away the wages of sin which I deserve.

Because Jesus died on the cross and rose again, I can have fellowship with God. The barrier sin caused between us has been torn down. Praise the Lord for giving us such a perfect gift!

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9 ESV)