Submitting to the Master

October 27, 2015June 12, 2018 / Gail Johnson / 6 Comments

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1-2

Twiggy came to us a skittish underweight two-year-old. Our first priority was her weight. The second was helping her become comfortable around humans.

Each morning when I entered the stall to feed her, Twiggy would stand in the far corner afraid. So, I changed tactics. I opened the door and waited. When she realized I wasn’t coming in, she took a few steps toward me. Every morning she came closer and closer until she began taking a mouthful of feed from the bucket. Finally, I was able to reach out and stroke her neck.

Fast forward nine months in the field with Susie, a thirty-year-old who loves attention, Twiggy has come to learn the wind in the trees isn’t so scary. Dogs can be fun. A person coming in the stall is normal activity. And if there is a problem the human will fix it.

She still has a long way to go. She isn’t broken, yet. She doesn’t know what a burden feels like. But she will. For only when she submits to a master can she be a useful horse.

It won’t be easy. But who said life was easy or fair? Life is what you make of it walking hand in hand with the Lord. Twiggy, just like me, has the choice to submit.

At first, she will fight the rope, hate the saddle, preferring to prance and run free. But hopefully, she will come to see there is freedom in submission. The Master honestly does know best. And when we lay aside our need for control, we find His yoke is easy and His burden light.

Yesterday, I watched Twiggy as she ran the field, gaining speed, slowing down, whirling around trees, and stopping for a breath—her movements graceful and precise. (She has all four feet off the ground!)

It reminded me of the race we’re running. Some days we gain speed. Others we navigate the obstacles. And still other days, we pause to catch our breath. Yet, there is joy along the way if we know where the joy can be found.

To find that joy we must learn to cast our cares aside. Trust in the Lord with all our hearts and lean not to our own understanding. Submit everything to the Master.

The secret: It takes love for the master before we can submit. Without love, we will always fight for control.

Finally, realize life is more exciting if we keep our eyes on the joy before us and bask in His light until we reach home.

This race is too short to run it alone. Invite the Lord along and watch how weightless you will begin to feel.

Memories

September 29, 2015August 30, 2019 / Gail Johnson / 2 Comments

Little Tikes Coupe ~ Pixabay

As a toddler, my son loved his Little Tikes red coupe. Every day we would spend hours playing gas station.

The driver would Fred-Flintstone around the house and then pull up to the Little Tikes gas pump. There, the lady attendant pumped his gas, and he paid her in change from daddy’s jar. With his receipt in hand, he would drive around once more only to return for another fill-up.

One spring day, the attendant was in need of a break. With a destination in mind, she made a plan. The only problem was hubby had the only vehicle. And so, she looked around and spied the Dairy Queen one block over. At 2 pm, the parking lot was empty. An idea formed.

With coupe and boy in hand, she took the back street to her destination. Once they reached the parking lot, she pulled to the drive-in window and ordered a dog, fry-bite, and a coke. She pulled to the pay window and gave the lady her money while all the other attendants smiled at the grinning tyke in the driver’s seat.

Then a car pulled behind them, then another, then another. Sigh. The minutes began to creep as she waited. Her prayers were answered when finally, the food arrived. Now dreading the return trip, the “engine” sputtered. She couldn’t take the main road. Too much traffic. Determined it wasn’t about her, she turned the coupe around and rolled past the waiting cars. She smiled when the happy little tyke waved to each car and they returned the gesture.

Why did she do such a silly thing? Because she loved the boy that much, and memories are a powerful thing. They connect us. They often sustain us in hard times.

Remembering

While on their way to Canaan, Moses reminded the people what God had done for them. Just before his death, God gave Moses a song to teach the people so they wouldn’t forget.

“Now therefore write ye this song for you, and teach it the children of Israel: put it in their mouths, that this song may be a witness for me against the children of Israel.” Deuteronomy 31:9 KJV

In Psalms 63:2, David cries, “To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.” His soul was cast down in the wilderness. Yet, he recalled the sanctuary. He went on to proclaim that God’s lovingkindness is better than life.

Paul when remembering his life said, “For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”Romans 8:38-39 KJV

Jesus also remembered. “And now, O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was.” John 17:5 KJV

“And he said unto them, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.” Luke 10:18 KJV

Yes, memories are a powerful thing. They stand as memorials and testimonies to others. My son remembers that day as a three-year-old he “drove” to the Dairy Queen. Some may have their doubts. But for a mom who, as a three-year-old, also has memories of swallowing a penny and the hoopla that took place afterward, I believe him.

Forgetting

Memories can also be debilitating. They can hold us captive. Yet God, through the work of His Son, has given us the ability to gain freedom. Today, I pray, if you are in a tough place, Beloved, remember from whence you came. Recall the times God has delivered you. Write it down and make a new memory today.

For you who struggle with memories. You are not defined by those memories. Don’t let the enemy dictate your future. Seize the promises of God. Know someone is praying for you. There is hope in Christ. Make new memories with those who love you.

Praying

Lord, for the child that needs a reminder today, I pray. Let them recall Your goodness. Let Your love, better than wine, wash over them. Put a song in their mouth to stir up the memories of Your faithfulness in times past. Let your peace that passes earthly understanding envelope them. Let them dance in joy.

For the child who needs to forget. It is by our Redeemer’s stripes we are healed. Touch the wound. Pour in the oil and wine. The chastisement of our peace was upon His back. You have promised to heal the wounds and restore health. Let them forget their misery and only remember it as waters gone by. You alone can do the impossible. Speak the Word and it shall be done. In Jesus’ name, I pray.

Guarding Our Hearts

July 7, 2015May 26, 2018 / Gail Johnson

Proverbs 4:23 commands us to guard our hearts for every thought, word, or deed flows from it. Actions must be taken to protect it from invasion.

Every year I plant a garden. It isn’t a lovely garden with a white picket fence, ivy trellis, and flowers adorning the beds. No. In fact, the beauty of my garden is in the eye of the beholder. If you were to see it, you would probably ask yourself why I even bother.

My garden is enclosed with cow/horse panel on three sides with the back of the barn completing the fourth. Added to the bottom is a piece of running board or catwalk. Along the north side is an electric fence. And even though, I have added a layer of protection every year, something always seems to find it’s way inside.

This year, we spent several days trying to figure out why the tops of my bell peppers were disappearing. We checked the fence. Too small for a deer to stick its head through. We checked for holes next to the fence. No sign of turtles. Then we placed boards in front of the gate. The next morning I found another scalped bell pepper. With pregnant clouds above, I had no other choice but to wait it out.

One week later, I decided to weed the tomato bed. During the process, my seventeen-year-old daughter found tufts of hair next to one of the plants. Baby rabbits! With umpteen dozen wooded acres, why in the world did the female rabbit have to pick my 48 x 48 fortress. I began trying to figure out how the mother was able to get inside while my daughter was oohing and aahing over the cute little ears!

“Oh, they’re so cute,” she said. “Look at those fuzzy ears!”

I watched her for a moment and knew I couldn’t get rid of them, yet. I told her to stop hoeing and we would watch them for a little while. Then, I began searching for the break in my wall. Finally, I found a little tunnel under the wall of a stall. The fuzzy miner had been busy.

On the way to the house, I informed my daughter the rabbits had to go. Her disappointment was obvious. “But they’re so cute.”

“Well, cute or not, they’ll destroy everything out there. Make a choice.”

With hand over heart, she replied. “But, Mama. My heart is torn.”

I reminded her that small things can be cute, but they can grow up to be quite ugly and destructive. She agreed. She searched for information on what to do and found they were older than they first appeared. According to the experts, the babies would soon leave the nest. A week later, they moved out and we covered the hole.

My garden may not be pretty to some, but it supplies me with a veritable summer buffet. From it, I pick tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, peas, cucumbers, strawberries, bell peppers, and cantaloupe.

Next year, I plan to add a moat.