When Hope Disappoints
For the past few months, I've been seeing a homoeopath in hopes of finding a natural remedy to cure all my ills. When you live each day in pain that affects your mood, energy levels, and focus, you grow desperate for answers. So, I reached out to a local homoeopath.
The first treatment she prescribed did wonders. I felt like a different person. My pain was drastically lessened. My mood was greatly improved. My energy level wasn't exactly through the roof, but it was far better than it had been in a long time. Yup, for about two weeks, I felt like I was on Cloud Nine.
But, slowly, my symptoms began to return. We tried adjusting the dosage, but that seemed to only cause issues with my sleep patterns. From there, we tried a different treatment that not only didn't help but seemed to send me back to where I was from the very beginning.
The Other Half of the Prayer
Most mornings before I leave my devotion time, I close my eyes and whisper, "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer" (Psalm 19:14). It's a prayer that has become as natural to me as breathing. The first part makes perfect sense. I want the actual words coming out of my mouth to honor God. Simple enough.
But recently, as I sat on my beanbag in my office, I paused mid-prayer. What exactly am I asking when I pray for the "meditation of my heart" to be acceptable?
The word "meditation" in Hebrew (hagion) refers to our innermost thoughts, ponderings, and even mutterings. It's what we chew on mentally throughout the day, the internal dialogue constantly running through our minds.
Religion Vs. Relationship
As we minister in mid-Wales, we're discovering a heartbreaking trend that has emptied many chapels across this beautiful country—religion itself.
I can't tell you how many adults have shared nearly identical stories with us. As children, they were bundled off to church or chapel every Sunday without explanation, marched down the aisle in uncomfortable clothes, and told to sit still and be quiet. They memorized prayers and recited responses without understanding why. They were taught how to act but never why it mattered.
"We just did it because we had to," one elderly gentleman told me, his weathered face creasing with the memory. "Mam would've had our hides if we'd refused."
Church services were as dry as month-old scones—formal, repetitive, and utterly devoid of life. The ministers droned on about the stories of the Bible without ever bringing about an application to the people or helping them understand how and why the Bible is still relevant today.
Beauty and Bands
As I mentioned before, with our upcoming ladies' meetings on the horizon, I've been knee-deep in fairy tale themes and decorations. I confess that even during my quiet time with the Lord this morning, my mind was still swirling with images of glass slippers and enchanted roses. So when I opened my Bible to Zechariah 11 and read about Beauty and Bands, I couldn't help but smile at God's sense of humor.
"And I took unto me two staves; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the flock." (Zechariah 11:7)
Beauty and Bands. It immediately transported me to the beloved tale of Beauty and the Beast. You know the story—a beautiful young woman, a cursed prince, a magical rose, and the power of true love. But as I continued reading, I realized God wasn't telling me a fairy tale. He was revealing something far more profound.
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: