“I believe that a godly home is a foretaste of heaven. Our homes, imperfect as they are, must be a haven from the chaos outside. They should be a reflection of our eternal home, where troubled souls find peace, weary hearts find rest, hungry bodies find refreshment, lonely pilgrims find communion, and wounded spirits find compassion.” ~Jani Ortlund
The chickens are pooping all over the front porch again, and my wife is a very special woman.
Almost every week, at some point or another, Carolyn says how happy she is to live at Rancho Cappuccino, surrounded by the wildlife and the livestock, steeping in nature’s own exotic brew of life, death, struggle and ecstasy.
Sounds great, you may say, but the chickens are pooping all over the porch. The geese are pooping all over the lawn. The manure in the sheep pen is two feet deep right now and the pasture where the cattle are grazing, well, it’s a cow pasture. Talk about your exotic brews.
The cow is a virtuosic defecator. They poop more, larger, wetter, deeper, noisier and more often than anyone else on the farm.
But all God’s children leave their mark.
The chickens leave theirs on the front porch.
My wife’s friends are revolted. Who can blame them?
But my wife is a very special woman.
We’ve tried solutions to the chicken problem. We tried fake snakes. The chickens ignored them, then killed a real snake and left it there, next to the fake snakes on the porch, to express their disdain I guess. This really happened. No kidding.
Then we created a barrier of silk flowers in little buckets. The chickens steer clear. Guests have to step over them.
Of course the chickens still do their business all over the sidewalk and the drive way and the lawn.
I’m acutely conscious that there are very few roommates who would put up with this, and almost all of them are men. If you think I’m being a sexist, you have an invitation to come help me clean the sheep pen. Then we can talk about my prejudices.
I figure if Carolyn decided to divorce me, I could either move to town or be single for life. I try to think of some other attractive woman who would be willing to join me at the Rancho. I can’t. Even some of the best sports I know can’t hide the little grimaces that say, “How can they live like this? How can she live like this?”
So here’s to Carolyn, with all my gratitude. I’ll make sure I take my boots off every time I come inside. Promise. Unless I forget.
*~~~~~~~~~~~*
Original post here.
"Devotions" Without "Devotion" by Nancy Leigh DeMoss
Some of us have had devotions, but we have not had devotion. There's a big difference. We may have gone through the motions of reading our Bibles and "saying our prayers" but we have not been cultivating a love relationship with our God. We know alot about Him, but we don't really know Him.
We are active and busy in a multitude of spiritual activities, but we have lost perspective of who it is that we are serving and why.
The result of our "devotionless" religion is seen in the way we respond to pressure. So many of us as Christian women are chronically stressed out. Everywhere I go, I see it in the eyes of women; I hear it in their voices; and too often I see it when I look in my own mirror. I know what it is to have demands coming at me from every direction. I know what it is to respond of weariness, with an impatient, demanding spirit.
And I know what it is to contend with God Himself, even as my eyes fill up with tears of frustration with myself and my reactions.
I also know that there is only one place where that angry, reactive, overwhelmed self can be transformed---the same place that Mary chose--the feet of Jesus. I must take a conscious, deliberate, daily choice to sit at His feet, to listen to His Word, to receive His love, to let Him change me, and to pour out my heart's devotion to Him.
When I get into His presence, the whole world looks different. When I draw close to His heart, I find mercy when I know I deserve judgment; I find forgiveness for all my petty, selfish ways; I find grace for all my inadequacies; I find peace for my troubled heart; I find perspective for my distorted views.
In Him, I find an eye in the midst of the storm.
Oh, the storm around me may not immediately subside;
but the storm within me is made calm.
