In This Thing Together…Sometimes patience comes only through compassion By Ken Tada

Several years ago my wife, Joni, contracted a bad cold, and despite steam treatments, lots of fluids, rest, and Vitamin C, it moved quickly into her chest. After two solid nights of constant coughing and an increasing tightness in her chest, we didn't wait any longer. I rushed her to the hospital—just in time. The emergency room x-rays showed that Joni's lungs were seriously congested.
The next day, tests revealed that both lungs were filling with fluid. Her physician diagnosed Joni with double pneumonia and ordered extra breathing treatments.
Her diagnosis scared us. Quadriplegics like my wife have no chest muscles and limited lung capacity. For them, even normal breathing is a challenge. Many don't live through pneumonia, let alone double pneumonia. The fact that Joni has lived 38 years as a quadriplegic, outlasting life expectancy statistics, alarmed us more. We knew her situation was tenuous.
But Joni was a trooper. She followed doctor's orders, kept up with her medications, and kept coughing, no matter how tired she felt. Those nine days in the hospital were extremely difficult for my wife. And I have to admit, they were difficult for me.
I felt pretty helpless, unable to do much except pound on her back to break up the phlegm or sit her up to press firmly on her abdomen so she could muster a good cough. I stayed at the hospital every night. I slept—if you could call it that—in a chair next to Joni's hospital bed. I had to be there. I should say I wanted to be there. It's not that I didn't trust nurses to help, but Joni couldn't push any buttons and she sure couldn't call out. I wanted to be there so she'd have someone to be her "muscles" whenever she needed help coughing—which was about every 15 minutes. We went through the quick-get-up-to-sit-her-up routine sometimes 25 times a night (the nurses laughed and said they were going to charge me with "wife abuse"). It wasn't easy. For Joni or for me.
One night around 4:00 A.M., I felt almost too weary to go on. I leaned my head on Joni's shoulder as she rested in between coughs. We were both exhausted. All was dark and quiet except for the low rattling in Joni's chest. After a long moment, she whispered, "Is this the for-better-or-for-worse part?" to which I mumbled after another long moment, "No, it's more like the in-sickness-and-in-health part." We chuckled.
It felt good to laugh again. We'd prayed countless times next to her bedside, asking God for bright spirits, but for some reason he chose to use that moment to pour out his grace on us both. And right then, we knew we'd make it. We knew she'd make it. And we knew our marriage was all the stronger for it.

From brokenness to restoration

I found this on the Net and no author was mentioned but I thought that this article is worth sharing here.

From Brokenness to Restoration

The other day, I was looking for some information. And where do we go these days if we're looking for information? Google, of course! I was trying to find something about relationships, and I was stunned by what I found. Do a Google search for “broken relationship” and you'll get results! There are over 7 MILLION 620 thousand hits dealing with the subject, and it took less than a quarter of a second to find them all. It made me think that each one of those search results was tied into someone's broken relationship. It made me think of my broken relationship with my dad.

I don't know what your relationship is like with your father, but I was not nearly as close to my dad as I would have liked. I feel like I missed out on so much; I must drive my sisters crazy asking questions like, “what was it like growing up with Dad?” “How did Dad do this?” “How did he deal with having four teenage daughters at the same time?” When my father died I was a teenager, still with a lot of questions about life, and now without a father to process those questions.

My relationship with my father was fractured; his alcohol abuse caused him to withdraw, and he showed little interest in my life. Consequently, I didn't have a strong emotional bond with him, and that effects me still today. I have had to make choices to intentionally replace behaviors that were modeled for me by my father so that I wouldn't raise my own children in the same kind of environment in which I was raised. There were many times when I felt very alone.

However, I know I'm not alone in feeling that I have some fractured relationships; we all have broken relationships of one kind or another. There are too many broken relationships in our lives today: dysfunctional families, fractured friendships, and strained relations with co-workers are prime examples. All of these bonds can be broken, and none of us enjoy walking barefoot among the shards of shattered relationships. They hurt, in deepest places that we never really talk about. Some mothers and daughters can't see eye to eye; the teenage years can become a battleground instead of a nurturing preparation for adulthood. Sometimes we talk to members of our family through clenched teeth and strained faces because we get so frustrated with choices that have been made.

Our friendships aren't exempt from this broken condition, either. Friends come and go, and sometimes the “going” can't be fast enough for our taste! There's that co-worker who just rubs you the wrong way, or that boss who won't seem to listen to reason, or that close friend who manages to know just what buttons to push. It seems that the better a person knows you, the more they have the potential to cause you pain. And humanly speaking, no one knows you better than your family, right?

That's really what we've been we've been looking at in our Genesis study: a series of family portraits that give us insight in to what's happening in our own lives. It's good to know that I didn't invent the dysfunctional family – I can certainly see it in this morning's story of Joseph and his brothers. I probably don't need to give too much background to this particular story – a lot of people are familiar with how Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers as a young man, and how he became the number two man in Egypt. But that's just back story for this morning... for one day, Joseph saw faces from his past that must have brought up all that pain and anguish from his family's choice to abandon him.

Can you picture what that must have been like? There's Joseph, working at his job, and his brothers who literally ditched and sold him show up and they don't even recognize him! He's in a position of power and authority, and he can really make them pay for what they did to him. And as much as I want for Joe to be a nice guy, he gives in. He decides to mess with their minds, and for three chapters he does just that. But deep in the story, we see signs that even though Joseph uses the situation to his advantage, he still cares for his brothers. He takes them out to dinner; he makes sure they're comfortable; he even has to excuse himself from the table and go cry because he's so overcome with emotion at seeing them again. But... he doesn't let them off the hook. He doesn't pretend as if nothing is wrong, and hopes that the problem will go away.

In fact, Joseph sets up a showdown - the confrontation between him, his brothers, and the truth. When we read Gen 44:1-13, we can see that Joseph has arranged it so that his brothers would be put under a lot of stress – they were going to lose Benjamin to slavery, just like they'd sold Joseph. They knew that this bad news would kill their father, and they couldn't let that happen. If these brothers didn't do something, and do it fast, their youngest brother was going to be lost, and their family was going to be destroyed. But what could they do? Joseph had all the power, and the brothers were at his mercy. So, they did the only thing they really could do... they told the truth.

Judah confesses the situation at home with how their father is “wrapped up with the boy's life” and how they thought that Joseph was dead. They knew they were in trouble, and the only way out was to 'fess up and take the consequences. Judah even offers himself as a slave in young Benjamin's place, and I think that demonstration of repentance was what got Joseph's attention. He must have known that their repentance was genuine, because that plea for mercy found its way into Joseph's heart and broke it.

Joe breaks down in tears, and forgives them. He lets them know who he is, and that he will not hold a grudge against them for their previous action – in fact, Joseph says that God used the situation to save all of their lives. This act of forgiveness on Joseph's part paves the way for reconciliation between him and his brothers. It takes a few more chapters for the details of how that reconciliation works out, but their family is restored.

You know, that's not just a nice bedtime story with the moral “be nice to each other”. God partners with broken people to restore relationships; He wants to see people reconciled with each other, and reconciled with Him. I see in that story three tools that God uses to mend broken people. The first tool that God uses is Truth. We can't be set free from anything in our past unless we're willing to admit it. This does not mean that we're going to set up a microphone and have a time of public confession; however, it does mean that those relationships in our lives that are fractured need the light of Truth to shine on them before any healing can take place.

The second tool that I see in the text is repentance. The Greek word for repentance means “to think in a new direction”, and that really captures the essence of what it's all about. When we agree with someone we've hurt that we've damaged them, it becomes a crucial step in the process of restoring that relationship. Judah didn't just say he was sorry; he demonstrated what the Bible calls “works worthy of repentance”. He took the steps he thought was necessary to make it right.

That third tool I see is forgiveness. We've got to be willing to think in a new direction when it comes to holding onto grudges and past hurts, or we'll never get free from them. Forgiveness isn't about letting the other person off the hook; it's about letting go of the right to hold someone in judgment for how we feel they've wronged us. Joseph forgave his brothers, and their broken family was able to be put back together again.

The Genesis writer caps off the story of Joseph and his brothers with the idea that restoration of relationship is crucial to God's design for his people. This is the pattern for Christ's rescue of mankind – we tell Jesus the truth of our rebellion against Him; we repent of our sin; he reconciles us himself and restores our relationship with God. God partners with broken people to restore relationships.

That kind of restoration doesn't “just happen” without God's presence. It's not in our nature to grant that kind of forgiveness. I was recently reminded by one of our students of a popular philosophical quote: “Forgive, but don't forget.” But forgiveness is God's specialty. He longs for restored relationship with us.

I know that the process of mending fractured friendships and broken family ties can be long and difficult. During the process, frustration will probably occur. But the results are worth it. PEOPLE magazine carried a story some time ago about a man who must have understood some of the frustration of restoration. His name was William Van Ogden. An amateur sculptor, one day Ogden happened to drive by a shattered statue. It was a statue of actress Myrna Loy that stood in front of Venice High School in Los Angeles, CA. The statue was part of Harry F. Winebrenner's 1923 "Foundation of Education." The beautiful figure had posed gracefully for decades until vandals dynamited it. Ogden repaired the work in 1979, donating his time and the materials. In 1980 vandals wrecked the statue again, and again Ogden began the rebuilding process. In 1981 the cycle repeated, and Ogden invested over 10 years of his life competing with the annual destruction done by the vandals. In March of 1989, doctors gave Ogden an estimate of two more months to live in a 4-year bout with cancer. At last report, he was racing against time to repair the statue one last time for people to see and enjoy.

Can you see how important restoration is? Can you imagine what our lives would be like if we went to those we know we've offended and did whatever it took to make it right? God partners with broken people to restore relationships. Let me close with this true story of how He partnered with some friends of mine to restore their relationship.

Rick was a young professional, on his way up the corporate ladder and frequently far from home. Ronnie, his young wife, held down the home fort with their two children. Life seemed idyllic until Ronnie discovered that Rick was having an affair with another woman in one of the cities he frequented during his business travels. Divorce seemed immanent, and the marital bond seemed irreparable. The loss of his relationship and children were the cost of Ricks “freedom”. But God began working in Rick, and somehow he realized that his marriage and children were worth more than the fruits of his irresponsibility. He came clean to Ronnie, and begged her forgiveness. He quit his job, took a local position as a salesman, and started the long slow process of rebuilding his marriage. It's a tough road, but they're walking it together.

God partners with broken people to restore relationships. Let's join Him in that process today.

"Why,God, Why?"

"Why, God, Why?" By Anne Graham Lotz

Facing the painful questions that life keeps asking.

My mother's pale, gaunt face was transformed into wreathes of joy when I walked through the door of her hospital room. Although her eyes seemed sunken, they sparkled with the zest for life that is her own special trademark. With IVs dangling from her arms, she lifted her trembling hands to welcome me. I embraced her frail body, feeling the heat of her temperature and the protrusion of her bones through the thin hospital gown. She was unable to speak clearly, so I just patted her and sat down nearby. Within moments, she was asleep. And I was left to wonder, Why? Why does my mother's life seem to be ending in suffering and, at times, confusion? Why, after a life lived selflessly for others, must her old age be, in some ways, a curse?

Yet I was reminded that unanswerable questions are not restricted to any particular age group when my son recently went through a series of tests to determine his physical condition five years after cancer surgery. The whys buzz through my head like irritating mental insects: Why? Why is my handsome, six-foot-nine-inch, 32-year-old son still stalked by the shadow of this horrific disease?

While wrestling with the illnesses of my mother and son, a beloved young friend was entering into the living death that is divorce. Why? Why doesn't God melt the heart of the offending spouse and bring that person to genuine repentance so the marriage can be saved?

And once again, the angel of death has struck, this time taking the life of the beloved pastor who ministered to my family and shepherded me through my formative years. Why?

And before that personal loss, I had other "whys."

Why would God let 110 fathers of unborn children perish in the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001?

Why would God withhold children from godly parents and give them to a mother who would bash in their heads with a rock or drown them in a bathtub?

Why would God allow thousands of people to lose their pensions because of greedy corporate executives who are padding their own retirement fortunes?

Why would God allow the kidnapping of babies and children for the perverted pleasure of some pedophile?

Why do the young die? Why do the wicked prosper?

Questions in the garden
Broken hearts asking the question Why? are as old as the human race, beginning with our first parents. What would it have been like to wake up the morning after having been banished from the Garden of Eden because of a very wrong choice? I would imagine Adam and Eve had been lying on the cold, hard ground, covered in smelly animal skins. After dark hours of fitful sleep, did they have a moment in between unconsciousness and full alertness when they thought everything they had been through the day before was just a horrible nightmare—only to come fully awake and face to face with the cold, hard consequences of their choice to disobey God? They would have found no comfort in each other that night after the way Eve had involved Adam in her sin—and Adam had blamed Eve when convicted of it. They may not even have been speaking to each other!

In utter loneliness, separated and alienated from God, their minds must have initially been preoccupied with reliving those awful moments that had led to their disobedience.

Why did I talk to the snake? Why didn't I pray first? Why didn't God intervene to protect us?

The most tragic day in all of history could not be relived. And the tragedy was not over. In the years to come, after the joy of giving birth to three sons, Adam's and Eve's hearts were broken once again as they buried their second son, who was murdered by their firstborn.

Why?

God answered what surely was their unspoken question with a promise that transcended the generations for every age to come when He reassured Adam and Eve that one day He would send a Savior Who would destroy the power of sin, death, and the devil—the fundamental sources of all human suffering. Ultimately this brokenness did lead to blessing, and their suffering did lead to glory when Jesus Christ, their descendant in the flesh, came to redeem mankind from sin and reconcile the world to God.

To our heart-wrenched cries of Why? God's ultimate answer is, "Jesus," as He is glorified and magnified in our lives through our suffering.

During the times when you and I can't trace God's hand of purpose, we must trust His heart of love. When we don't understand why, we must trust Him because God cares for us more than we can possibly know.

A tale of two birds
A turkey and an eagle react differently to the threat of a storm. A turkey reacts by running under the barn, hoping the storm won't come near. On the other hand, an eagle leaves the security of its nest and spreads its wings to ride the air currents of the approaching storm, knowing they will carry it higher in the sky than it could soar on its own. Based on your reaction to the storms of life, which are you? A turkey or an eagle?

It's natural for me to be a turkey in my emotions, but I have chosen to be an eagle in my spirit. And as I have spread my wings of faith to embrace the "Wind," placing my trust in Jesus and Jesus alone, I have experienced quiet, "everyday" miracles:

His joy has balanced my pain.
His power has lifted my burden.
His peace has calmed my worries.
His grace has been more than adequate to cover me.
His strength has been sufficient to carry me through.
His love has bathed my wounds like a healing balm.

Soaring has become an adventure of discovering just how faithful He can be when I am way out of my comfort zone in the stratosphere over the storm. Soaring is an adventure of discovering by experience His answer to my pain. And I imagine a smile of infinite tenderness on His face as the angels in heaven applaud, "Anne, you're finally getting it. Now you're beginning to understand one of the reasons why God has allowed these bad things to happen."

And, to a greater degree than ever before, I do understand. Soaring is so exhilarating, I find increasingly that I am no longer content to live in the barnyard of familiar comfort just for the relative security that seems to be there. I want to live by faith.

The big picture
Looking back over that 18-month period of loss and uncertainty in my life, my confident conclusion is that God allowed the storms of suffering to increase and intensify because He wanted me to soar higher in my relationship with Him.

Faith that triumphantly soars is possible only when the winds of life are contrary to personal comfort. That kind of faith is His ultimate purpose in allowing us to encounter storms of suffering.

Jesus taught us this lesson of triumphant faith in the little town of Bethany in the days that immediately preceded the history-splitting storm that broke in Jesus' own life at Calvary—a storm that carried Him to the very highest pinnacle of glory and power. In that small-town setting, Jesus revealed God's answer to our question, "Why did You let this bad thing happen?"

His timeless response to our heartfelt query was given dramatically to Mary, Martha, and Lazarus—a family living in Bethany (John 11:1-44). Ultimately they soared to the very heights of faith on the wings of the storm that suddenly swept into their lives. Their experience underscores the truth that God's picture for our lives is much bigger than our own. And it reminds us of the challenge to trust His greater, ultimate purpose when bad things inevitably happen.

Adapted from Why?: Trusting God When You Don't Understand (W, 2004). © 2004 Anne Graham Lotz. Used by permission of W Publishing. All rights reserved.

An interview with Rick Warren

Rick Warren (REMEMBER HE WROTE 'PURPOSE DRIVEN LIFE') You will enjoy the new insights that Rick Warren has, with his wife now having cancer and him having 'wealth' from the book sales. This is an absolutely incredible short interview with Rick Warren, 'Purpose Driven Life ' author and pastor of Saddleback Church in California



In the interview by Paul Bradshaw with Rick Warren, Rick said:

People ask me, What is the purpose of life? And I respond: In a nutshell, life is preparation for eternity. We were not made to last forever, and God wants us to be with Him in Heaven.

One day my heart is going to stop, and that will be the end of my body-- but not the end of me.

I may live 60 to 100 years on earth, but I am going to spend trillions of years in eternity. This is the warm-up act - the dress rehearsal. God wants us to practice on earth what we will do forever in eternity.

We were made by God and for God, and until you figure that out, life isn't going to make sense.

Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you're just coming out of one, or you're getting ready to go into another one.

The reason for this is that God is more interested in your character than your comfort.

God is more interested in making your life holy than He is in making your life happy.

We can be reasonably happy here on earth, but that's not the goal of life. The goal is to grow in character, in Christ likeness.

This past year has been the greatest year of my life but also the toughest, with my wife, Kay, getting cancer.

I used to think that life was hills and valleys - you go through a dark time, then you go to the mountaintop, back and forth. I don't believe that anymore.

Rather than life being hills and valleys, I believe that it's kind of like two rails on a railroad track, and at all times you have something good and something bad in your life.

No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on.

And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for.

You can focus on your purposes, or you can focus on your problems.

If you focus on your problems, you're going into self-centeredness,'which is my problem, my issues, my pain.' But one of the easiest ways to get rid of pain is to get your focus off yourself and onto God and others.

We discovered quickly that in spite of the prayers of hundreds of thousands of people, God was not going to heal Kay or make it easy for her.

It has been very difficult for her, and yet God has strengthened her character, given her a ministry of helping other people, given her a testimony, drawn her closer to Him and to people.

You have to learn to deal with both the good and the bad of life.

Actually, sometimes learning to deal with the good is harder. For instance, this past year, all of a sudden, when the book sold 15 million copies, it made me instantly very wealthy.

It also brought a lot of notoriety that I had never had to deal with before. I don't think God gives you money or notoriety for your own ego or for you to live a life of ease.

So I began to ask God what He wanted me to do with this money, notoriety and influence. He gave me two different passages that helped me decide what to do, II Corinthians 9 and Psalm 72

First, in spite of all the money coming in, we would not change our lifestyle one bit. We made no major purchases.
Second, about midway through last year, I stopped taking a salary from the church.

Third, we set up foundations to fund an initiative we call The Peace Plan to plant churches, equip leaders, assist the poor, care for the sick, and educate the next generation.

Fourth, I added up all that the chu rch had paid me in the 24 years since I started the church, and I gave it all back. It was liberating to be able to serve God for free.

We need to ask ourselves: Am I going to live for possessions? Popularity?

Am I going to be driven by pressures? Guilt? Bitterness? Materialism? Or am I going to be driven by God's purposes (for my life)?

When I get up in the morning, I sit on the side of my bed and say, God, if I don't get anything else done today, I want to know You more and love You better. God didn't put me on earth just to fulfill a to-do list. He's more interested in what I am than what I do.
That's why we're called human beings, not human doings.

Happy moments, PRAISE GOD.
Difficult moments, SEEK GOD.
Quiet moments, WORSHIP GOD.
Painful moments, TRUST GOD.
Every moment, THANK GOD.
God's Blessings on you today.

A Bruised Reed & A Smoldering Wick

I found this writing on the Net, don't know who the author is (God bless him or her richly) and I thought it would be good to post it here as a way of sharing this lovely message of hope.

A Bruised Reed & A Smoldering Wick
Isaiah 42:1-4

A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
Matthew 12:20

Max Lucado writes in his best-selling book He Still Moves Stones—

Is there anything more frail than a bruised reed? Look at the bruised reed at the water’s edge. A once slender and tall stalk of sturdy river grass, it is now bowed and bent.

Are you a bruised reed? Was it so long ago that you stood so tall, so proud? You were upright and sturdy, nourished by the waters and rooted in the riverbed of confidence. Then something happened. You were bruised …by harsh words; by a friend’s anger; by a spouse’s betrayal; by your own failure; by religion’s rigidity. And you were wounded, bent ever so slightly. Your hollow reed, once erect, now stooped, and hidden in the bulrush.

And the smoldering wick on the candle. Is there anything closer to death than a smoldering wick? Once aflame, now flickering and failing. Still warm from yesterday’s passion, but no fire. Not yet cold but far from hot. Was it that long ago you blazed with faith? Remember how you illuminated the path? Then came the wind … the cold wind, the harsh wind. They said your ideas were foolish. They told you your dreams were too lofty. They scolded you for challenging the time-tested. The constant wind wore down upon you. Oh, you stood strong for a moment (or maybe a lifetime), but the endless blast whipped your flickering flame, leaving you one pinch away from darkness.

The bruised reed and the smoldering wick. Society knows what to do with you. The world has a place for the beaten. The world will break you off; the world will snuff you out. But the artists of Scripture proclaim that God won’t. Word pictures painted on page after page display the tender touch of a Creator who has a special place for the bruised and weary of the world. A God who is the friend of the wounded heart. A God who is the keeper of your dreams. That’s the theme of the New Testament. By the way, your portrait is in the gallery too. Go ahead. Look at it. It’s there, to the side. Just like the others, there are two easels (before and after). But unlike the others, these canvases are white. Your name is at the bottom. Beside the easel is a table with paint and a brush …

In the 12th Chapter of his Gospel, Matthew introduces this prophecy from Isaiah with these words:

Aware of this, Jesus withdrew from that place. Many followed him, and he healed all their sick, warning them not to tell who he was. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah. (Matthew 12:15-17)

Matthew beautifully proclaims that this promise is wonderfully fulfilled in Jesus. God says,

“Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not quarrel or cry out; no one will hear his voice in the streets.” (Isaiah 42:1-2; Matthew 12:17-19)

Jesus wasn’t like some of these people we see today, going all-out, being loud and obnoxious, and weird in the name of the Lord. He really didn’t draw attention to Himself. In fact, He blended into His world so well that in the Garden of Gethsemane, if Judas hadn’t betrayed Him with a kiss, His enemies would never have recognized Him. Here was a Man who had healed, and fed, and taught thousands, yet He remained unidentifiable because He moved in such humility and grace.

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out…” (Isaiah 42:3: Matthew 12:20)

Reeds grow in marshes. They were then, and still are, good for only one thing: musical instruments. If a reed becomes bruised or bent or cracked, it’s good for nothing. Flax, likewise, was good for only one thing: to be used as wicks in lamps. Through the analogy of reeds and flax, Isaiah described the ministry of Jesus.

Jesus doesn’t smash the reed that bends under the heat of the sun. Nor does He douse the smoking wick that doesn’t ignite easily. If fact, if we look at the parable of the Lost Sheep (Luke 15), Jesus seems to be most interested in the person who is hurting or struggling. Over and over again, Satan will tells us that if our reed is bruised or our wick is nothing more than smoke, that Jesus is really tired of us and is ready to give up on us. But, that’s a lie. Jesus doesn’t break the bruised reed…He doesn’t snuff out the smoldering wick. Let’s take a look at a few paintings from the Bible.

A woman jumps from one side of a canyon to another. Her clothes are ragged. Her body is frail, and her skin is pale. She looks anemic. Her eyes are desperate as she reaches for the canyon wall with both hands. On the ledge is a man. All you see are his legs, sandals, and the hem of a robe. Her words? “If only …” In the next scene she’s standing. The ground beneath her bare feet is solid. Her face flushes with life. Her cautious eyes look up at the people surrounding her. Standing beside her is the one she sought to touch. His words? “Take heart …”

A scantily clothed female cowers before an angry mob of men who threaten to stone her. In the next scene, the stones lie harmlessly on the ground, littering the courtyard occupied by a surprised woman and a smiling man who stands over something he had written in the dirt.

A paralytic on a pallet urges his friends not to give up as they stare at a house overflowing with people. In the next scene, the pallet is on the boy’s shoulders as he skips out the door.

Then there’s a blind man, who screams to a rabbi. In the next scene, he’s bowing before the one to whom he screamed.

Maybe you feel like some of these people. Maybe you feel like nothing more that a squeaky reed or a smoldering wick. Maybe you’re looking at yourself as a hopeless case. My friend, I have some good news for you. Jesus doesn’t see you like that. He’s not going to break you. He’s not going to throw water on you. He’s not going to give up on you. Why? Because He sees you as you’re going to be. He’ll strengthen you. He’ll rebuild you. He’ll use you for His glory. Sure, you’ll probably fall down a few times. But, He won’t. So, when you do fall down, don’t be discouraged. Get up, dust yourself off, and say, “OK, Lord, let’s try that again…”

The Bible says,

He who began a good work in you
will be faithful to complete it.
Philippians 1:6

By the way, what have you decided to paint on your canvases?