Rainy Monday Musings

This is kind of a hard post for me to put into words. I know what I want to share but I don't know where to start. I've been in kind of a funk spiritually since April. I don't know whether the exhaustion of moving the office and various other big projects have anything to do with it, spending my first ever Mother's day ALONE this month (as in no kids in sight) or what, but daily devotions and regular church activities just haven't cut it. It finally hit me that I'm missing peace and that "sound mind" part of II Tim. 1:7. Thanks to a visiting speaker that peace issue was addressed. Thanks to Pastor Henry Wright's teaching I know that a sound mind is found in a right relationship with the second person of the trinity, Jesus Christ.

I didn't intend to neglect Jesus. He is my Savior and best friend, yet I've had to admit that I have spent a long time (years) learning to love and trust God (the Father) the way He intended a father/child relationship to function. Fear is no longer a stronghold in my life thanks to this dynamic, for lack of a better word, in my relationship with God.

And now it's time to move on. I'm hungry to know my Savior.

It's his power that has my mind reeling today. A lot of things come to mind when you hear the word "power". There are so may uses of the word and ways in which power is defined, shown, and used it covers a lot of ground. And Jesus said "all power is given me". "All" in itself, considering all the meanings, is pretty staggering. Combined with the word "power" and, well, our gaskets just can't hold that much. It's here we step from the realm of understanding into the realm of faith.

But I do want to offer a faint glimmer of understanding. This is something that God showed me yesterday while teaching at the jail. Consider the atomic bomb . . . Little Boy that was detonated over Hiroshima in 1945 successfully converted 600 milligrams (.02 ounce, the weight of a little dust) of uranium into energy. The resulting explosion killed 140,000 people with those closest to the blast being vaporized in nanoseconds.

When you consider the Holiness of our God having the power of even a few pieces of uranium dust, how dare we think we can stand before Him? At least not without a covering of His provision? This is exactly what God did for his friend, Moses, when he hid him behind a rock to prevent him from being killed by the brightness of His glory.

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereoff." My Jesus owns far, far more than a few specs of uranium dust. It's ALL His. When you consider the mass of the earth is generally accepted as 5.9742 × 10²⁴ kilograms, (did you get that, ten to the 24'th power kilograms?), the energy stored in our world alone is so far beyond comprehension we can only express it in terms of power.

And it's all His. I don't know about you, but I know who's side I want to be on! And I'm thankful to have His covering!

Dead Mice Offerings (image deliberately omitted)

We have two cats, Stitches and Lucky. They are about as opposite in personalities as it’s possible for two felines to be. Stitches is demure and doesn’t like to be held, yet she’s the one who will cuddle against my backside in the sewing room chair when given the opportunity. Lucky on the other hand is a Tigger; impetuous, playful, and affectionate.

We don’t know which one of them is leaving us “presents”.

It started this spring after we were gone for a week. We came home to a thoroughly disgusting dead mouse on the porch by the back door. The unspoken message was, “You weren’t here to feed us, we don’t want you to leave again so we’re going to feed you.”

There have been two this week, and neither were on the back porch by the door . . . no, they were in the work area of the kitchen where thankfully I didn’t step on them. I’ve not figured out what the meow message is supposed to be, unless it’s something like, “I’d like mine medium rare”, which of course we know isn’t going to happen.

It crossed my mind this morning while disposing of mousie #2, (found intact next to the refrigerator unlike it’s predecessor that had internal parts missing) that our offerings to God must seem a lot like that sometimes. I know my cats mean well. My mom told me years ago that it’s their way of taking care of their family and showing appreciation. Yet what possible use could a dead mouse be to a human other than something to throw out and maybe fertilize the garden . . . like compost? And when you consider the diseases that mice can carry do you even want to do that??

I’m reminded that my own works are like that to God, pretty disgusting. While I may mean well, and be very sincere, if it’s not led by His Spirit, and washed in His Blood, it’s not worth a whole lot in eternity’s economy.

And eternity, under the shadow of his wings, is where I want to live. So no dead mice for my God today! He wants my heart and I’m glad to give it to Him – just not on the kitchen floor.