Questions Welcome
I've always been a question-asker. As a child, I would barrage my parents with an endless stream of "why" and "how" inquiries that would make even the most patient adult want to hide in a cupboard. In school, my hand shot up so frequently that I'm surprised my arm didn't develop special muscles. Even now, just a couple of weeks from my 48th birthday, I find myself peppering conversations with questions, sometimes to the point where I wonder if I'm being annoying.
This week during my morning devotions, I discovered something that made my inquisitive heart leap with joy. I've been reading through Zechariah, and I noticed something remarkable: Zechariah asked ten different questions in just the first six chapters! Throughout his prophetic visions, he continually sought clarification:
The Sweet Fragrance of Worship
Have you ever noticed how certain scents can transport you back in time? The aroma of freshly baked chocolate cake reminds me of my grandmother's kitchen, while the scent of pine needles whisks me away to my favorite childhood spot—the Big Rock. But one fragrance mentioned in Scripture particularly captivates me –the spikenard Mary poured out.
Picture the scene with me: Jesus is dining at Simon the leper's house in Bethany. The room buzzes with conversation when suddenly, Mary enters with an alabaster box of precious ointment. Without hesitation, she breaks the container and pours its contents over Jesus's head and feet. The Bible tells us, "Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment" (John 12:3).
Finding God in Lost Things
Have you ever lost something and searched everywhere, only to come up empty-handed? That's exactly what happened with my dog's favorite toy, Robby the Robot. This wasn't just any toy. It was a clever little contraption that would roll and wobble around, dispensing treats as it went. Tess adored it, probably because it combined two of her greatest loves: play and food.
But one day, Robby mysteriously vanished. At first, I wasn't too concerned. Tess has a habit of rolling and batting her toys into the oddest places, so I assumed he'd turn up eventually. However, as days turned into weeks, I became increasingly determined to solve the mystery of the missing robot.
I crawled on my hands and knees, peering under every piece of furniture. I checked behind bookcases, inside cupboards, and even among the many boots and shoes by the door.
Hidden Treasures
My husband knows me well. When he suggested we take a short break before our busy spring schedule, he knew exactly where I wanted to go—Hay-on-Wye, the booktown of Wales. Just 45 minutes from our home, this quaint village houses over twenty bookshops, each one more enchanting than the last.
From the outside, these shops appear modest—simple storefronts with basic displays. But step inside, and you'll discover a bibliophile's paradise. What begins as a single room lined with books transforms into a labyrinth of literary wonder. Through doorways and up staircases, around corners and down narrow corridors, each shop reveals hidden chamber after hidden chamber, each filled with countless volumes waiting to be discovered.
Jason, Tess, and I spent three days exploring these magical spaces. Between browsing sessions, we sampled local treats (the donuts were divine!) and took long walks around the town and on local trails.
Making Our Story Count
For we spend our years as a tale that is told. - Psalm 90:9
As we wrap up our series on "Once Upon a Time," we've discovered that real life has both similarities and differences to fairy tales. We've explored how God writes better stories than the Grimm Brothers and how our struggles aren't always resolved with a wave of a magic wand. But today, let's focus on making our life story worth telling. After all, according to our verse, we spend our years as a tale that is told. The question is, what kind of tale are we telling?
Like any good story, our lives have a beginning, middle, and end. But unlike fictional tales, we're writing ours in real time, and we don't get to edit the previous chapters. So, how do we ensure our story is worth telling?