God is Great, God is Good

Read This Before You Pray Over Your Thanksgiving Meal!

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

--Jeremiah 29:13

 

          “God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food….”

Does God hear those little rote prayers we recite over and over as children?  How about those short notes we send up to the ceiling as we lay in bed at night?  I wonder.  We are promised that He hears our prayers, but even the half-hearted-I’m-in-a-hurry, bless-us-as-we-go kind?

 

“Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep…”

These questions pricked something in my heart, and sent me on a search to find out more about prayer.  For example, I wanted to know how prayer got started.  Who said the first prayer? Well, the first reference I could find was Genesis 4:26.  This was right after Cain had killed Abel, and Adam’s wife gave birth to Seth.

At that time, men began to call on the name of the Lord.

-- Genesis 4:26

 

But the prayers I found in the Old Testament had a different dynamic from what we know today.  The prayers of Moses, Samuel, Gideon, and Abraham were more like conversations; we’ve turned ours into monologues.  Look at Genesis 18, for example.  Abraham and God are talking about destroying Sodom and Gomorrah.  They engage in a dialogue, and God verbally responds to Abraham’s request.  Why do you suppose we don’t hear His voice like that anymore?  Hearing the voice of Almighty God at the end of “I pray the Lord my soul to take” would certainly shake us up, wouldn’t it?

I began to seriously consider my own prayers.  Those quick, off the cuff sentences thrown mentally at the sky when I need a little help with something.  What does God think about prayers like that?  Are they pinned to a heavenly bulletin board, stuck to the refrigerator in paradise with an angel magnet?  What will He say to me about my prayer life when I’m face to face with Him in Glory?

“You missed it, Holly.  I was there for you 24/7 and you missed it.  You could have chosen to enter the Holy of Holies with Me, but you wasted this precious gift that I offered you.  The doors of My throne room were hurled off their hinges, left wide open, in anticipation of your visit.  But you came rarely and stayed for such brief visits.  You didn’t stop to listen.”

Oh, does this hurt your heart the way it does mine?  How could I ignore this facet of my walk with Him?  The power of constant communication with the Father?  I’m not exactly sure what it means to pray without ceasing, but it’s time I learn.  How about you?

In her article, “Basics of Prayer”, Mary Fairchild listed five things we need to hold in our hearts as we kneel before the throne of God:

 

·        Be humble. (2 Chronicles 7:14)

·        Ask for and receive forgiveness. (James 5:16)

·        Pray wholeheartedly. (Jeremiah 29:13)

·        Have faith. (Mark 11:24)

·        Be obedient. (1 John 3:22) 

 

And we will receive whatever we request because we obey Him and do the things that please Him.—1 John 3:22

 

No more taking this for granted.  No more whispering platitudes at the ceiling fan over the bed.  No more sing-song, catch phrases mumbled over meatloaf.  We’re invited to have a conversation with the Alpha and Omega, the Mighty Jehovah, the Great I AM. 

 

                       It’s time to get on our knees, believers.

                              

Almighty Father, I am so humbled by Your love for me.  As I come before You now, I will be still.  I will listen to Your voice.  I will obey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Squarest Peg

 

God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.

--Hebrews 6:10

 

          When my husband retired, we knew we didn’t want to spend our “golden years” in rocking chairs on the front porch, although beach chairs by the gulf sounded appealing.  We both felt that God had something else planned for us, and we waited with great excitement to see what that something would be. So, like impatient children begging for a trip to Disneyland, we pestered God with our question, “Where can you use us, Lord?” 

 

          We have been team members on mission trips that took us around the world.  Don, to Africa, and me, to Burma and Thailand.  We’ve traveled together to Mexico several times.  But where would He send us now?  Would it be southeast Asia?  Kenya? Back to Thailand?  I just knew it would be some place exotic and glamorous.  I pictured it in my mind:  Our friends would throw us a wonderful going away bash. They’d “oooh” and “aaah” about our amazing faith and bravery in leaving our home behind and traveling off to some foreign land to serve.

 

          As I re-read that last paragraph, I’m so ashamed of myself. Obviously, my priority was not service to God, but service to my own ego. Yet God still chose to use us—not on some Pacific island or Mongolian mountain—but right here in Atlanta.  He made a place for us to serve at Jesus Place Inner City Mission, an organization that ministers to the physical and spiritual needs of the city’s homeless.

 

          Now, this is not a pretty ministry.  There is no glamour here.  The men who come to us are usually hungry, dirty, and weary.  Most are living in a city-run shelter, some are living on the streets.  Many have spent time in prison.  Some are on drugs or have problems with alcohol.  They have no money, and almost no hope.  The staff and volunteers at Jesus Place may be the only light they see all week.  And that’s a tough job.

 
Click on the logo to visit the website. 

          I can’t tell you how far out of my comfort zone this ministry has dragged me.  And ‘dragged’ is exactly the right word.  Still hoping for one of those aesthetically pleasing missions, I resisted Jesus Place with my entire being.  Even today, seven years later, I still yearn for the more glamorous Masai Mara village.  But Jesus Place is where He’s decided I should be.

 

          Every day I see growth in my husband Don because of his work there.  I can see that this is a perfect ministry for him.  He is such a servant, and caring for the needs of these men uses his spiritual gifts in ways I couldn’t even imagine.  But me?  I just don’t see it.  I’m literally a square peg in a round whole.

 

 

          And maybe that’s the point.  Maybe He’s using this ministry to round off those square edges of mine, to make me a humble…HUMBLE…and useful tool in His hands.  The sanding is what hurts.  These splinters are painful!

 

          So, I try to remain open and teachable, patiently waiting to see what plans He has for us in this season of our lives.  I remind myself that it’s a privilege to be serving the Lord in this place, to have the opportunity to be a light in this very dark city.  He chose this place for me, and He chose ME for this place. 

 

          Father, sand these rough corners off of me.  Use me as You will, to serve those who may never have another opportunity to experience Your love.  Let me be your hands and heart in this community as You teach me and mold me into the servant You want me to be.

 

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I have recently published "Why A Star?", a student's guide to the Christmas story. The book contains 10 lessons for children, ages 10 to 14. It is priced at $4.99. All proceeds from the sale of this book go to support the work of Jesus Place. Please click on the book below to order your copy. Thank you for helping to support this vital work!

                                                 

                                                 

My Day in Court

by Holly Moulder

Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high.—Job 16:19

 

          Several months ago I was called to jury duty.  Not only was I selected to sit on a jury, but I was also chosen as jury foreman.  The case we heard had to do with a local college student, driving drunk, who hit and paralyzed a young father.  The driver had already been convicted of his crime and was serving his sentence; our jury’s task was to determine a monetary settlement for the victim and his family.  Millions and millions of dollars were at stake, and I was determined that, under my watch, justice would prevail.  Just like it did on Matlock.

 



 

          One by one, the parade of witnesses for the prosecution took the stand.  Expert upon expert, specialist upon specialist.  They READ page after page of medical jargon.  Not even the lawyers had the good sense to pull the plug.  The words droned on, becoming less like testimony and more like the hum of very bored, very tired bees.  My eyelids sunk to half-mast.  I had to keep nudging Juror #9, a waitress who worked the graveyard shift at a local Waffle House.  She was giving it her all, but it was a losing battle.  At least she didn’t snore. 

 

This was not at all like TV.  I watched Law and Order.  I thought I knew how this was supposed to go.  I yearned for a few words from Lennie Briscoe!   Where’s Jack McCoy when you need him?

 

And you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.—Acts 1:9

 

Then it hit me:  We are called to be His witnesses!  I pondered that for a while as the courtroom parade dragged into its third hour.  I challenge you to ask yourself the same question I asked myself:  When we talk to unbelievers, do we sound like one of the specialists I heard in court that day, impressed with our religious knowledge and in love with the sound of our own voices?  Does our testimony put the world to sleep? 

 

Or, are we unprepared when the opportunity comes? Do we bolt like rabbits, unsure of our words and scared of standing up for Jesus? 

 

Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning.—Luke 12:35

I was in Mexico on a mission trip with a group of ‘first-timers’ from my home church.  We had gathered at a nursing home to lead a Sunday afternoon service.  The afternoon had gone as expected, the service flowed smoothly.  No bumps.  No mistakes.  We patted ourselves on our shoulders, and made a bee line for the van.  Not so fast, my witness, a voice whispered in my spiritual ear.

 

A tiny elderly lady in a wheelchair stopped us with a question.  “Before you go, could one of you tell us your testimony?  Would you share with us your story of how you came to know our Lord?”  Her warbly voice stopped us dead in our tracks.  Uh, oh.  This was our big moment.  Time to do the job, answer the call, share the Gospel.  And, collectively, we froze. 

 

Except for one faithful lady.  Doris has been a stalwart pillar of our congregation for decades.  A teacher to generations of Sunday Schoolers, she’s someone you want right there next to you when you’re caught up in spiritual warfare.  We’d been concerned that the trip might be too taxing for someone of her age.  Those Mexican roads can be rough, you know.  But Doris would not be dissuaded from coming with us.

 

And, as we learned that afternoon, Doris was on this trip for a reason.  She turned and faced that group of eager believers, delighted to share her story of faith.  There was no hesitation, no fillers—just fact.  When her opportunity came, Doris was ready.  She schooled us all that day.  I promised never to be caught unprepared again.

 

In Acts 26, Paul tells Agrippa about his encounter on the road to Damascus. Paul writes, “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’

 

‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied. ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me.’—Acts 26:15, 16

 

          That’s it.  Get dressed.  Get your lamp lit. Get up and stand on your feet.  Be ready.  Be His witness.

 

Father, thank you for allowing me to be your witness in this world.  Shine your light through me.  Help me always to stand up for you, to share your love with the lost.