Multiplied Blessings

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Recently my Illinois neighbor Becky and I emailed back and forth about the mysterious phenomenon of God’s Spirit prompting us to do things for other people. Most of us want to obey him but then often respond ambiguously. “Good suggestion, Lord. I’ll get on that soon.”

We worry that obeying the Spirit’s urgings might expose us to embarrassment or rejection, so we give him excuses for why we can’t do it just yet or in that certain way. None of us likes to feel awkward or risk humiliation, so we procrastinate, though we’re not without good intentions.

Becky’s email included the back-story (which I hadn’t heard before) of what happened on one occasion when I said “yes” to the Spirit. I share it not to boast (since I’ve disregarded holy promptings more times than not) but to encourage all of us to act quickly on future Spirit-whispers.

It was 1993. Becky and I were becoming good pals, pushing our babies on the back yard swing set and sharing PB&J sandwiches on a blanket. We chatted about our lives and families and one day landed on spiritual matters. I sensed Becky’s heart was warming toward the Lord.

Eventually she asked a few questions about Scripture. It was during that conversation the Spirit tapped me: “Give her a Bible.”

“But I might offend her or seem preachy,” I said. “She might feel pressure to read it.”

But I did it, buying a textbook-style study Bible.

Now, from her recent email:

“Remember when you gave me a Bible? It’s the Bible I still use and love. It’s in sorry shape, but I’m very attached to it. I have every other translation on my bookshelves, but the Bible you gave me is special. I can’t imagine being without it!

“After receiving the Bible, I put it in my nightstand drawer where it stayed unopened for 6 years! Then in 1999 I was invited to a Bible study. Little did I know I was about to be introduced to Jesus. I’d completely forgotten about the Bible in my nightstand and took my mother-in-law’s 1929 King James Version. Months later God reminded me I already had a Bible that looked more like the other women’s Bibles, and I got it out of the nightstand drawer. Two years after that I surrendered my life to Jesus, my Lord and Savior.

“Over the last 7 years or so, I’ve given away 13 Bibles because of you, and have plans to give away 3 more. Those Bibles may be sitting in someone’s nightstand unopened for years just like mine was. But when God decides to make his move, those people will remember.

“John 6:65 says, ‘No one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.’ Thank you for my most treasured Bible!”

And that’s how God does it: 1 Bible given = 20 more Bibles given = 20 women receiving Bibles, who might each give 20 more = 400 Bibles = the way God moves through the Spirit’s promptings.

So when he whispers, “Do it,” we should all hop to it!

“God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:5)

Acting Squirrely

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Our Farmer’s Almanac says the Midwest is in for a lollapalooza of a winter. If that’s true, there’s cause for concern about Little Red’s welfare and all his squirrel buddies. Last year our neighborhood was blanketed with acorns, so much so that walking the length of the driveway was like lurching about on a carpet of marbles.

This fall, however, there’s nary an acorn to be seen. God may have told the trees, “After outdoing yourselves last year, take a year off.” But good news for the oaks has been bad news for the critters. I didn’t realize the extent of the problem until I bought a few pumpkins for the front porch.

I’d barely gone inside when the first little thief came and dragged the tiny baseball-sized pumpkin away. I counted again and again before realizing what had happened. Now, a week later, they’re all but gone, the chewed-up evidence scattered throughout the yard.

All of this off-the-ground eating puts me in mind of the biblical manna. Although its timely arrival every night was miraculous, God told the Israelites his main reason for sending it wasn’t to satisfy their hunger, as much as to teach them about the nourishing, faithful Source behind it: him.

I sometimes think of the incredible boredom of eating manna every day for 40 years. The slaves of the Egyptian pharaoh who left in a hurry never realized how scrumptious that last Passover meal had been with its roast lamb and all the trimmings. Once they were in the desert, it was same old, same old, despite God’s eventual addition of quail to the menu.

We get frustrated eating leftovers more than once or twice in a row. How about being raised on manna as your staple? Forty years worth of newly-born wilderness-Israelites had no idea what it was like to eat anything else.

I always thought of manna as God’s provision of love, but the Bible says he sent it “to humble them and test them” for their own good. (Deuteronomy 8:16) In other words, he knew how difficult it would be to exist on the miraculous but boring manna day after day but considered it useful training. And then came that glorious day when they walked into Canaan and had their first taste of something new: baked bread and roasted grain, mmmm-good!

At the end of God’s humbling and the tests he allows into our lives even today, we can always count on him to provide the mmmm-good when it’s over!

BTW, maybe the local squirrels have viewed their annual acorn diet like so much manna, nourishing but boring. If so, this year’s pumpkin feast must seem like the Promised Land!

“No manna appeared on the day they first ate from the crops of [Canaan], and it was never seen again.” (Joshua 5:12)

(FYI, Scripture hints we might all get to see and taste a little manna in heaven. Remember, he saved a jar of starter in the Ark of the Covenant. Revelation 2:17)

A Tail Tale (by Jack)

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Today is a tail-wagging day: my 9th birthday. That makes me a contemporary of Midge, since we’re both in our mid-60s now. She gave me a wonderful birthday present, telling me I could write tonight’s blog. She also gave me an extra rawhide. I especially like the ones with the red stuff in the middle, which is what I got today.

In response to public demand for an update on last week’s tail injury (“Without a Wag” Oct. 13, 2011), please know I’m doing well. That fateful day when I failed to hit my mark while leaping onto the high deck at the back of the car, I crashed backwards to the asphalt, bending the base of my thick tail in a way it shouldn’t have bent.

Immediately it got black and blue, but with my black fur coat, who knew? Because it hurt to move it, I was forced to stop wagging, a tremendous sacrifice. Not to be able to show acceptance and affection to my loved ones was a terrible loss, the start of a depressing week for me.

But Midge sympathized with my dilemma, and as I tried to communicate love with my eyes, I’m pretty sure she got my drift. She doesn’t have a tail herself (poor thing) and can’t wag her emotions, but I’ve gotten good at figuring out how she’s feeling by other clues she gives.

A year ago as she was crossing over all the “firsts” without Pidge, she wouldn’t have been doing much wagging even if she had had a tail, especially during the October days leading up to the first anniversary of his death (Nov. 3). But this year was a different story. Although sometimes I catch her with a tear on her cheek, mostly her wag-o-meter is in a wiggling position, and her face is dry.

I’m thankful for her, and I know she’s thankful for me. Now that my bruise is healed and my wag is 100% again, I’m able to tell her that every day. As for her, despite the disadvantage of not having a tail, she does her best with words, weaving them into tales of another kind.

By the way, I saw her take a juicy red steak out of the freezer tonight. Maybe if I wag really good…
“The Lord will make you the head, not the tail. If you pay attention to the commands of the Lord your God that I give you this day and carefully follow them, you will always be at the top, never at the bottom.” (Deuteronomy 28:13)