Humility in Waiting
Waiting is tough, especially when you know you are meant for something bigger. Maybe you know deep down you have the skills, the calling, or the destiny for a major purpose, but you are stuck right now serving in a role that feels too small, or maybe even humiliating .
David faced this exact challenge. The sources remind us that he knew he was God's anointed—he was destined to be king. Yet, instead of rushing out to seize the throne or start a revolution, he chose to serve King Saul humbly . He served both in the army and in the court, trusting completely in God’s timing . He didn't see his current position as beneath him; he saw it as necessary preparation.
Bearing Burdens: Understanding the Galatians Paradox
Have you ever come across two verses in the Bible that seem to contradict each other and thought, "Wait a minute! What's going on here?" I certainly have! One such apparent contradiction appears in Galatians, where Paul seemingly gives us opposing instructions about burdens.
In Galatians 6:2, Paul tells us, "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ."
But just three verses later in Galatians 6:5, he states, "For every man shall bear his own burden."
So which is it, Paul? Are we supposed to help others with their burdens or let everyone carry their own? Is this a biblical blooper, or is there something deeper at play?
The answer lies in the original Greek text. When Paul wrote these passages, he used two different words for "burden," each with its own distinct meaning.
Boundaries Bring Freedom
Wales is a hiker's paradise, with meandering paths that often lead through sprawling sheep pastures. These wide, open spaces are Tess's absolute delight. Her little legs stretch to their full capacity as she bounds through the lush green fields, her nose twitching with excitement at each new scent.
However, I've noticed something curious about her behavior. When we walk in areas with no clear boundaries, like pastures with broken fences or open access to the road, Tess becomes my shadow. She practically glues herself to my ankles, occasionally glancing up as if to say, "Just making sure you're still there, Mum." Her anxiety is palpable as she trots along, refusing to stray more than a few feet away.
The transformation occurs when we enter well-fenced pastures. Once Tess sees those secure boundaries in place, she becomes a different dog altogether.
Fireworks Fright!
Last night, our neighbors decided to set off fireworks. It wasn't a holiday or celebration. They simply wanted to enjoy the colorful display. While their desire for entertainment was understandable, poor Tess was absolutely terrified. When I say terrified, I mean she vibrates so intensely that I genuinely fear she might shake apart into a million tiny pieces.
We were in the middle of dinner, with Tess strategically positioned nearby to catch any falling crumbs or tasty morsels. At the first loud bang, I gasped in surprise, and before I could blink, she bolted through the doggie door. By the time Jason and I slipped on our shoes and rushed outside, she had completely vanished. The only evidence of her desperate escape was a small, freshly dug hole beneath the front corner of the fence in the side yard, the spot farthest from the fireworks.
Are You Forgetting the Main Thing?
Jason's bowls tournament was approaching quickly, and my kitchen had transformed into what resembled a professional bakery. Every surface was dusted with flour, mixing bowls were stacked in the sink, and the sweet smell of baking filled our cottage. My husband had volunteered to handle all the refreshments for the event, bless him, which meant he had been baking all day. (By the way, he's a VERY good cook!)
I was in my office, fingers flying across the keyboard as I worked on my latest book, when I heard a groan from the kitchen that could only mean disaster.
"Oh, for crying out loud!"
The frustration in Jason's voice pulled me from my writing zone. I found him staring at a tray of unbaked scones, his flour-covered hands on his hips.
"What's wrong?"
He pointed at the offending dough. "I forgot the cheese."