Wise mothers learn to speak “kid-ese, or is it kid-lish?”–the language of their little ones.
For instance, not all yells and tears convey the same meaning. Sometimes, the little one cries out and it means, “Mama, come here and beat the sap out of my brother. He’s picking on me and I’m not big enough to whip him myself.”
Then there are whimpers and sniffles, which mean, “I’ve got the blues and I want you to cuddle me.”
Other yelps mean, “I’ve had enough friend and this means war.” Mama becomes a referee in those cases.
When our son, Charles, was four or five he was prone to see bears in the dark. One day he and his little sister Christi tore around the corner of the house yelling, “Snake!”
Charles felt obliged to add, “And this time we really did see a snake.” I suppose that was an admission that some of those bears he saw weren’t as real as all that.
But, then there is the cry that cuts to every parent’s heart and sets them sprinting to help. You know something is wrong. What’s the difference? Fear inspires this cry and a parent feels it to the core of his being.
I think God can sort out our cries, too. Sometimes we blubber in prayer to try to elicit His pity but what we’re really saying is, “God, you’re not fair. Why do you do that for him and not for me?”
Sometimes we cry out to God and what we’d love to say is, “Slap him, Lord! You don’t have to kill him. As a matter of fact I prefer you don’t, but make him feel pain like he’s made me feel pain.”
He’s a good good Father and God knows why we call out to Him. Those times when our cry comes from the depths of our being set God running.
“Death bound me with chains, and the floods of ungodliness mounted a massive attack against me. Trapped and helpless, I struggled against the ropes that drew me on to death.
“In my distress I screamed to the Lord for his help. And he heard me from heaven; my cry reached his ears.” (Ps. 18:4-6, Living Bible)
Just like our children’s distress inspires us to action, our squeaks of fear bring God into our situation. “Then the earth rocked and reeled, and mountains shook and trembled. How they quaked! For he was angry. Fierce flames leaped from his mouth, setting fire to the earth; smoke blew from his nostrils. He bent the heavens down and came to my defense; thick darkness was beneath his feet.” (Ps. 18:7-9 LB)
Sounds like a mad mama doesn’t He?
But, What About That Time?
Stop, stop, stop! I hear what you’re thinking. “I called out once and God left me hanging. I lost that job.” Or, “My husband died anyway.” “Or, that turkey got off scot free.” “Or, etc. etc. etc.”
This Psalm seems to have been written at the end of David’s life. Each one of us can pick out moments in life which reeked of failure, times when God didn’t show up like we thought He should.
But, when David looks back and evaluates his life, he sees it better as an old man than he did at the moment.
Lots of things we thought had killed us, didn’t. Some of them even made us stronger when we faced them with faith. A lot of them made us wiser when we reflected on them.
And some were just a part of life. Someone said, “It’s a bad day, not a bad life. Dust yourself off and keep trying…we win!”
The one whose faith grabs hold of God and refuses to let go will come through victorious. It may be in eternity when he finally sees it but he wins. He may have some knots on his head and a black eye but he’s still standing (you should have seen the other guy!).
“Lord, how I love you! For you have done such tremendous things for me.
“The Lord is my fort where I can enter and be safe; no one can follow me in and slay me. He is a rugged mountain where I hide; he is my Savior, a rock where none can reach me, and a tower of safety. He is my shield. He is like the strong horn of a mighty fighting bull. All I need to do is cry to him—oh, praise the Lord—and I am saved from all my enemies!” (Ps. 18:1-4, LB)
God really does hear you. God really does react to your pain. God really does work to change all things for your good when you love and serve Him.
Don’t give up … cry out!
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Hmmm …
Forgiveness doesn’t diminish justice, it just entrusts it to God. Unlike us, God never gives up on a person. Never. Long after we’ve moved on, God is still there, probing the conscience, stirring conviction, always orchestrating redemption. Fix your enemies? That’s God’s job. When it comes to forgiveness, all of us are beginners. No one owns a secret formula. Remember this–as long as you are trying to forgive, you are forgiving. Stay the course! You’ll find a way to be strong even when you’ve been hurt. max lucado
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It started out as a normal Sunday. “Started out” I said, though it didn’t finish that way.
Pastor Longwind (his great-grandfather was a Wootohoochie Indian) was still droning on after one hour and five minutes, finally arriving at point 27 of a 37 point sermon. That was okay, though, because the last ten points were all called “in conclusion” or some variation on that idea.
The visitors were thrilled when he said, “In conclusion.” The regulars knew not to get your blood pressure up until about the eighth conclusion, when there might actually be hope.
Brother Restlow was breathing regularly in the corner, eyes closed in contemplation. Each time he started to snore, his wife elbowed him. Everyone behind them enjoyed watching him sleep disturbed by occasional punches. It was the most interesting thing going on.
For the CONCLUSION click here