My guest blogger today is delightful Julia Kramer. I met Julia in Salzburg, Austria several years ago when Paul and I were speaking at a retreat for missionaries. Over the past years, we’ve found a mutual love for writing. I am always encouraged and spurred on by Julia’s words, and I know you will be too!
I’ve recently read a research about how our brain likes to solve problems by addition. It is much easier for our brain to add something than to subtract. Even if removing would be the wiser solution! Scientists told people to improve a little Lego building. The roof of the house was unstable because it was only fixed to one brick. But instead of removing the upper brick most of the people added another three bricks! Although they had to pay a small sum for it! Our brain prefers adding over removing. And you can spread that on other themes in our lives as well. Work, organizations…new problems cause new work teams, seminars, and equipment. But maybe it would be better to just remove or cancel something? I think this is a most exciting topic. For one I am interested in minimalism. And when you start going that way you soon recognize that it doesn’t stop with things but influences your whole life. (I remember the book I was reading recently: “There´s so much you don´t have to”)
Removing instead of adding is often very wise for our health, too. I found out that walking barefoot is much better for me than wearing my expensive health slippers. I feel my whole foot and try to balance my weight evenly. Because of my back pains I found out that a sturdy hard frame and mattress is better than an expensive high-tech product. And sitting on the floor is so much healthier than sitting in a relaxing chair. I like sitting cross-legged anyway and I recently started to combine my bible reading and my exercising: I sit on the floor each morning to stretch my legs and back while reading and meditating God´s word.
Reduction and simplifying is good for me. I’ve already learned that in some areas of my life while I haven´t even started to think about it in others.
I definitely prefer basics in my wardrobe and my kitchen. I like wearing the same turtlenecks all winter long. It´s easier to choose and I feel comfortable in it. And I like cooking easy and healthy meals from basic food without any preservatives or additions. And no supplements. Basics.
And our spiritual life? More bible reading and less spiritual books. I want to read God´s basic words and listen to what the Holy Spirit is telling me. Of course I also like reading books. But the bible is definitely my basic food and my personal time with God is essential and more important than any other input.
It would be interesting to hear what God would suggest me to remove from my life. Where do I carry too much unnecessary things and make life more complicated than it is? Where have I just gotten used to things and habits?
When Jesus sent his disciples to proclaim God´s kingdom, he told them to not take any equipment or luggage with them. No food, no money, not even a second shirt. They didn’t need any equipment because God cared for them. Everything they needed was already inside of them. Jesus provided for everything they needed. And they could rely on him and trust him.
In Psalm 37 it says that loving and trusting God is much better than being rich because God cares for those who love him.
It takes courage to let go of things and trust God to provide for our needs.
And sometimes it also takes brains and effort to think differently.
Where is less more?
Where is letting go needed in my life?
There is so much freedom in trusting God´s care!
Let´s get rid of our ballast and live simply!
“Less is more and more is less.” Psalm 37:16 (the Message)
“Don´t load yourselves up with equipment. Keep it simple; you are the equipment.” Luke 9:3 (the Message)
My husband and I came here to work at a small church and help in different tasks. We have three teenagers (15,17,19) and are very proud of them! I love reading and writing, going for a walk in the woods by my own, and I love water (creeks, lakes, the sea). I also love cats, Earl Grey tea and chocolate. I really like to learn and it´s the same with my spiritual journey, where I´m not even close to the finish line yet. God is so much bigger than I know and his love for me so much deeper and profound than I can imagine. He is the one who gave a new identity to me. I am his beloved child, no matter what! In knowing this I become free and courageous, because he is the one standing behind me, covering my back.
Elizabeth encouraged me to follow my dream of writing and gave me some really helpful tips to actually get started some years ago! Now my first book (a children´s novel about friendship) will be published next year (in German)! I´m very excited about it! Elizabeth pushed me to start my own blog, which I did during the pandemic. You are welcome to visit my blog! https://juliakramer-english.jimdofree.com/
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.
Sometimes Spring takes my breath away and I have no words. Just a few photos and a verse that I need to remember today:
Matthew 6: 28-31
Lord Jesus, please calm my anxious heart today as I trust You. And may I bloom for Your glory like the lilies of the field.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.
My creative and thoughtful and wonderful mother-in-law, Doris Ann Musser, is back with reflections about a tree that sits outside the retirement home in Richmond, Kentucky that she called home for a few years.
THE TREE
YOU RISE ABOVE THE OTHER TREES AT THE CURVE OF
STOCKER DRIVE…..TALLER…BROADER….MORE STATELY…..
….WITH BRANCHES STRETCHING OUT IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
SOME REACH FOR THE SKY;
SOME LOOK AT THE UNEVEN GROUND;
SOME YEARN TO MOVE ON UP THE HILL.
MOST ARE BENT, GNARLED, CROOKED, MALFORMED…..
…OF VARIOUS SHAPES AND SIZES.
THEY CLING TO YOU TIGHTLY AS
IF STUCK WITH SUPER GLUE.
EACH HAS SMALL ATTACHMENTS DWINDLING FROM
LARGE TO MEDIUM TO TINY TO NOTHING.
YOU GAVE THEM BIRTH;
NATURE GUIDED THEIR GROWTH.
THEY STEM FROM A FIRMLY ROOTED, STURDY TRUNK….
TWENTY-THREE FEET, TWO INCHES. MY HUG OF LOVE
FAILS TO REACH THE WHOLE WAY ROUND.
ROUGH CHIPS CLING TO YOUR TRUNK. PROTECTING
FROM STRONG WINDS AND SEVERE WEATHER.
ALL TREES NEED ROOTS. YOURS ARE UNIQUE AND
AMAZING, BREAKING FREE AND PUSHING UP THROUGH
THE SOIL LEAVING AN UNEVEN SURFACE. THE ENDS OF
THE ELONGATED BUMPY ROOTS WITH RIDGES AND
VALLEYS MAKE WALKING TRICKY.
NOT A SCIENTIFIC FACT, BUT A STRING MEASUREMENT
SAYS YOU FORM A SIXTY-THREE FEET IRREGULAR CIRCLE
AT THE ENDS OF THE ROOTS. THEY DARE ME TO GET
CLOSE TO YOUR TRUNK WHILE DETERMINED TO BE SEEN
AS NECESSARY AND APPRECIATED PARTS OF THE WHOLE.
LOOKING THROUGH YOUR VARIOUS SIZED LIMBS AND
BRANCHES IS LIKE SEEING THE BRILLIANT SKY THROUGH
A GIANT SPIDER WEB.
SOMETIMES THE SUNSET FRAMES YOUR BEAUTY.
SOMETIMES THE SNOW CLINGS TO THE UPPER SIDE
OF YOUR BRANCHES; A BREATHTAKING SIGHT.
SOMETIMES GOD’S TEARS SOAK YOU
WITH NEEDED WATER.
YOU BEAR NO FLOWERS, ONLY HUNDREDS OF HEALTHY
GREEN LEAVES IN SEASON. I WONDER HOW MANY
BIRDS & ANIMALS HAVE SHELTERED IN AND AROUND.
YOU ARE BEAUTIFULLY BARE.
HOW MANY RAGING STORMS HAVE YOU WEATHERED?
YOU ARE NOT SYMETERICAL LIKE MANY OTHER TREES.
SUCH AN IMPREFECT SHAPE ADDS TO YOUR LOVELINESS.
I QUESTION WITH SILENT RESPONSES…..
– WHAT IS YOUR REASON FOR BEING?
– ARE YOU REALLY OVER TWO HUNDRED YEARS OLD,
AS I WAS TOLD?
– WHO PLANTED YOU IN THIS SPOT?
– WHAT’S IT LIKE…. A LIVING THING YET UNMOVING?
– WHY DO YOU FASCINATE ME?
– ARE YOU HERE BECAUSE GOD KNEW THAT ONE DAY
IN NINETEEN HUNDRED NINETY-FIVE THERE WOULD BE
AN ASSISTED LIVING FACILITY NEAR PLUS CONDO AND
TELFORD RESIDENTS WHO WOULD FIND GREAT
PLEASURE IN ADMIRING YOU?
DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE A BEACON FOR US?
WE SHARE MUCH.
WE, TOO, ARE OLD.
SOME OF US MOVE AS DO YOUR LIGHTER BRANCHES.
OTHERS ARE MORE LIKE YOUR HEAVIER BRANCHES;
.. NEEDING ASSISTANCE.
SOME ARE BENT IN BODY…..LEANING.
WE HAVE WEATHERED STORMS.
OUR BEAUTY IS NOT AS FORMERLY BUT WE GRACEFULLY
ACCEPT AGING.
WE ARE BEACONS FOR THE GENERATIONS WE BORE
AND RAISED.
OUR WOMBS ARE BARE; WE ARE FREE TO ENJOY
THE FRUITS OF OUR LABORS.
I AM ABSORBED, CAPTIVATED AND IN ANOTHER WORLD
AS I SIT ON THE BENCH CONTEMPLATING THIS
MARVELOUS STRUCTURE.
THANK YOU, SPECIAL TREE.
BE QUIET MY SOUL.
TURN AWAY FROM DISTRACTIONS.
SIMPLY SIT, LINGER, LOOK, LISTEN.
DORIS ANN MUSSER has been sharing her creative talents for 87 years, spanning the globe from Lewisburg, West Virginia, to Brazil, France, Haiti, and China, and back to Kentucky where she lives now. She has her one and only, Harvey, waiting for her in heaven, but remains delightfully busy on earth keeping up with her five children, their spouses, thirteen grandchildren, and twenty-two great grand-children at last count. She has friends around the world and loves all things Mickey and Charlie Brown.
I wrote this over a decade ago, when Chris was home in France during a summer break from college. But it seems strangely appropriate now as we continue to work through all hard, hard things of 2020 and beyond. I am thankful that weeping and rejoicing can coexist in the beautiful paradox of God’s love.
They have come here to grieve. And to celebrate. Right now they are four. Soon others will arrive and by this weekend, our house and yard will be overflowing with youth. As it should be. Again.
Beau is barking as he welcomes another student. Chris is making pancakes. The house is littered with backpacks and mattresses and empty milk cartons and plates with brownie crumbs. The kids greet me with smiles and tears. They do not differentiate between the two because life has caught them off guard.
He died tragically, in a boating accident on the Lac d’Annecy at 2:30 on a Sunday morning. A student from their class. 19. A childhood friend. They grew up with him. In the early morning hours, as the boat shot through the water in a 5 kilometer per hour zone, it struck a rock, was projected against a cliff and he and the four other young passengers were hurled into the water. Two survived. Three did not.
All 19, all bright young students, France’s elite, celebrating the end of a grueling year of studies. Too carefree, too sure that life was before them, indestructible, invincible.
Ironically, at that same lake on that same night, a group of 15 young people from our church were camping out, singing praises to the Lord, sharing laughter and dreams and the Bible. The noise from the impact of the boat against the rocks woke a few of them. They heard the distant sirens and went back to sleep.
Paul and I had been in Montpellier for the weekend, rejoicing with friends at the marriage of their daughter. Heading back toward Lyon, Paul driving and I in a semi-sleep, exhausted from a full weekend of visiting friends and the festivities that lasted into the wee morning hours, we heard of a boating accident on Lac d’Annecy. I was thankful that we had already talked to Andrew on the phone, reassured that he had returned safely from the young people’s weekend there. I dozed again.
Once back home, I immediately called the friend’s residence where Chris had spent the weekend. The father answered the phone, speaking softly, almost incomprehensibly. Finally he said, “I’m sorry. I’m stunned. I’ve just learned that one of Charley’s classmates was killed in the boating accident in Annecy.” And that is how we found out.
Adrien. Dead.
Years ago, when we first moved to Lyon, and Chris and Andrew started attending their new school, Cité Scolaire Internationale, Chris and Adrien had become friends. I remember how happy we were when Adrien asked to attend church with us, and I remember the Sundays when we would drive to his house, tucked into the prestigious 3eme arrondissment of Lyon and Adrien would come out of the house, smiling, ready for church.
It didn’t last long. Perhaps a few months. He had other interests; life was full for all of our teens.
On other occasions there were parties at his house. I met his parents, both dentists, so young and successful and kind. And his two younger sisters. A beautiful, tight-knit family.
Now they sit in that refurbished manor, with the manicured grass and the sunporch overlooking the pool, in a deep grief. I imagine them there and I cry. Life is cruel.
And our young people come to cry too. They do not want to be apart, alone in their grief. And so they wade through the heartache together, first at one house, then off to school, then to another home, then into town. A band of friends, intercepted by death, brought together by death, bonded ever more tightly by tragedy.
Fidji has known Adrien from the time she was a little girl. Charles, too. They fluctuate from disbelief to rage to despair. The students hug each other, cry, share memories and find themselves laughing hysterically at some long forgotten antic in which they and Adrien were involved.
Paul and I watch and pray, hold out our arms to hug them, suddenly vulnerable children again. I bake brownies, I send notes on Facebook and I write. Writing has always been for me a solace, a way to grieve.
I write because I cannot not write, because I want to remember this. I want to remember the strength of the human heart in the face of tragedy. Fresh faces, young, with the world in front of them, ripped in two by the unthinkable, holding each other up.
Adrien’s friends will all don light blue shirts on Friday for the funeral. Held at the thousand-year-old St. John’s Cathedral, the funeral will be for the three young people who perished in the boat accident. The church will overflow. The tears will flow, overflow, too.
Last night, when Chris, Charles, Sam and Fidji arrived at our house, they were wearing black pants and white shirts, after having spent the evening serving a meal to the homeless at the Salvation Army post. They were exhausted but giddy because, although the week was filled with grief, it also held a bright spot. Fidji and two other young people from church had found out that morning that they had passed the compulsory tests allowing them to proceed from their first year of medical school to the second. No small feat, basically meaning their grades were among the top 100 out of a class of 700. Reason to celebrate. An extremely competitive and demanding year ending with success.
And so they celebrate. And cry. And laugh. And eat brownies. And talk.
I watch them there, drained and yet eager to try on life and I am thankful for the words of Scripture, so very concise. So true. “Weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice.” Sometimes, oddly enough, life allows us to do that very thing with the same group of people. Life is like that. An endless roller-coaster ride.
I am thankful for another verse of Scripture. “I will lift up my eyes to the hills; from whence cometh my help? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
Questions? Oh, yes, they abound. Answers? Few and even those are far from appropriate right now.
Weeping and rejoicing and lifting our eyes, we continue.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.
We were destined to be friends and soulmates before we ever met.
Our dads knew each other, waving across the golf course at the Capital City Country Club in Atlanta. So I paid attention when my father said, “You need to meet the artist Jill Steenhuis. She grew up in Atlanta, rode and showed horses, moved to Aix-en-Provence in 1980 and lives there still.”
It took a long while to meet in person, but Jill and I started corresponding about twenty-five years ago, writing emails back and forth from Aix to Montpellier and then Lyon. We soon discovered many, many mutual friends in Atlanta and beyond, and most importantly, our mutual faith in Jesus.
And Jill became my ‘go to’ friend whenever I needed to ‘get into’ an artist’s skin in one of my novels. This was especially the case for The Swan House and The Dwelling Place. In the Acknowledgements I wrote: Jill Steenhuis, fellow Atlantan living in southern France and gifted artist, thanks for your thoughtful insights and advice about art and for helping me understand the artist’s inner eye.
For my 40th birthday, my parents gave me what is still one of my most treasured possessions: a painting by Jill.
It hangs above our fireplace in our home in Rochetaillee. This painting still takes my breath away every time I gaze at it. It captures my heart, embodying many things I love: France, nature, poppies, an old aqueduct, life in the moment.
Jill paints ‘en plein air’ like her beloved mentor, the impressionist artist, Paul Cezanne who lived and painted in Aix. In fact Jill’s art studio is designed almost exactly like Cezanne’s. Years ago, I had the privilege of finally meeting Jill in person and visiting her studio.
We’ve prayed for each other and cheered each other on across the miles and countries and years as the Lord has blessed the work of our hands. When Jill asked me for advice about publishing a book of her paintings and essays, I was humbled and delighted to get a sneak peek at this gorgeous book and wholeheartedly endorsed it.
From the back cover: To observe and contemplate Jill Steenhuis’s art (and her words, for she is not only painter, but also poet) is to accept an invitation to be inspired by the timeless beauty of nature that she captures on canvas and in her writing. Returning to the pure and simple joy of daily things—of flowers and villages and budding trees—we taste and smell and feel the truth that is life. Jill is a magnificent artist in every sense of the word. Her work touches my soul. —Elizabeth Goldsmith Musser, novelist
With all of our shared history, imagine our delight to have a chance to have lunch together at the Swan Coach House in Atlanta a few weeks ago.
And we are especially ‘tickled pink’ to be signing our books together THIS Thursday at The Swan Coach House Gift Shop. If you are in the Atlanta area, I hope you’ll join us. It will be my first in-person signing in over a year, and I am THRILLED to be there with Jill.
Thursday, April 29, 11am – 2pm at the Swan Coach House Gift Shop, 3130 Slaton Drive NW, Atlanta, GA 30305
I’ll be signing copies of The Swan House, The Dwelling Place, The Promised Land, and The Long Highway Home.
Jill will be signing copies of her marvelous Art, Soul, and Destiny.
Whether you can meet us in person or not, be sure to check out Jill’s website where you’ll find her beautiful artwork as well as her beautiful soul.
I am so grateful for my precious fellow artist friend in France (and the US!)
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.
Oh, Lord, the sun is shining through our big, beautiful, and CLEAN front window in Flintstone, Georgia, and I feel hope. The house has just been pressure washed. And I’m delighted with the result. All the mold and moss, all the green and black stuff—whatever it was—is gone.
The outside of the house sparkles. And it smells. Like bleach.
I find this very humorous because all day yesterday at my father’s house in Atlanta I smelled the familiar and sweet scent of manure. Yes, horse manure. The smell I grew up with. But this time it wasn’t emanating from the barn behind my father’s house, but from the neighbors’ yard which is being completely redone.
But today, bleach. And it worked. I’d wanted the house to be washed for quite a while as I noticed the stains. I am a little in awe that it worked! In less than an hour, it was all done. By professionals. So often I try to get by without paying the money for professionals. Without ‘outsourcing’, as my son calls it.
But today, we paid, and I am thrilled. Even our little Eastern bluebird who is building a nest on the back deck seems okay. She stayed in the little birdhouse, and hopefully she will be content to keep coming back. (editor’s note; she has!=)
I know there are many spiritual analogies to this pressure washing theme. The first, of course, is that Jesus warns not to just clean the outside. Oh, yes, some of Your harshest words are to the ‘white-washed tombs’.
But what I’m thinking about is another analogy. How I cannot clean my own house, my own soul-house. I have to ‘outsource it’ to You, Lord. And when I do, the effect is immediate. You pressure wash my soul, a hard, eternal blast of whiter-than-snow bleach. You clean every part of me with that initial salvation pressure wash.
But boy, do I need to outsource the cleaning on a very regular basis. I need deep spring cleaning. Again and Again and Again. And I can never, ever, do it on my own. That will not work.
When the man came to pressure wash the house this morning, he warned, “We use bleach, so please don’t come outside while we’re working.” In other words, don’t get in the way of the professionals. Let them do their hard work, and then we can enjoy the beauty of it later.
Lord, I think I get in the way of Your work rather often. I try to help You along. I step outside with excuses or rescuing or shame when You are trying to strip it all away with Your Spirit’s blast. It can be harsh and hard, and it can hurt. Oh, yes. Confession hurts. Sanctification hurts. And of course, I have to take the initial step of ‘hiring’ You to clean me out.
But then, I must let You do it. I can’t clean myself, Lord. As my precious mother-in-law says, “Duh.” That’s the whole point of the Gospel. “For God so loved the world that He gave…”
You do the hard work, the blasting off of the sin. Then, and only after this, do I do the hard work of accepting Your grace, trusting that what You have done is enough. And walking in that cleanliness with confidence.
It’s like so much else in the Christian life, isn’t it, Lord? So many paradoxes. Yes, You clean us with one harsh and wonderful blast of salvation. And yes, I have to keep coming back to be cleaned again. Not for salvation, but for sanctification. For the daily doing of life.
And sometimes, that’s where I get tripped up. I fall back to trying to figure it out on my own, at worst, or at best, trying to help You along. Instead of accepting that You are God, and I am not and never the twain shall meet.
Except that we do. Another paradox. Somehow, after that first forceful blast, You live inside me. And we meet day after day after day. So that yes, I ‘outsource’ my help from above, and yet, I have the ‘outsourced help’ inside.
I love Your mystery. I love how You so often helped humans see Your truth by using analogies and parables.
So dear Savior and Lord, come again today and pressure-wash my soul for Your glory.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.
I’m honored to have my friend and artist, Meghan Lacey, again as a guest on this blog. I know you’ll appreciate her devotional thoughts and her art!
Dear Friends and Fellow Travelers on this Journey of Life,
Today I want to share with you what is on my heart, Healing…God’s powerful Healing…the Healing that only comes from Him.
In this difficult chapter of human history, my heart has been heavy, I keep praying for friends, family and those I do not know who I see struggling in so many ways.
Because of a worldwide pandemic that we have been in for over a year now, many of you reading these words know someone who was lost to Covid, I too have friends known to me and even family members who have died in the past year due to Covid.
Each life lost on earth, is a life lost too soon, and Jesus yet weeps with us because He is close to the brokenhearted. Grieving and seeking healing is a complicated process because we start to see ourselves as we really are…that can be pretty scary when we examine ourselves before God. How can we reconcile the difference that we see between ourselves and a most Holy God? How does He want us to respond when we come to the end of ourselves?
By bringing us closer to God through the promises in His word, I too, hope to be transformed and indeed healed by His word. What I want us all to consider, is how intrinsically linked Healing is with Faith. Not just faith in ourselves, one another or in nature or something abstract but indeed, Faith founded in the Living God, Jesus Christ, Our Lord.
In Elizabeth Musser’s book, “The Swan House”, after the tragic loss of her mother, Mary Swan Middleton experiences the healing of God through the active faithfulness of the people who come into her life, teaching her what true love is, showing her where she can truly put her trust and hope in for the rest of her life. I love how she starts her journey looking for clues to a riddle, only to find that the artwork she is searching for is quite literally closer to home than she ever imagined. I won’t spoil the whole book for you, if you haven’t read it yet, please do! Atlanta and indeed the world needs to read this story right now, I think yet again we are in a new time of change and healing in our land which does give me great hope!
By examining scripture there is much we can learn about healing and how the power of God through faith can heal us.
Imagine this promise: Jesus is the Healer of bodies and souls!
By His Wounds We are Healed:
“But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and by His wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds we are healed. For you were like straying sheep, but you have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your Souls” 1 Peter 2:24-25
Praise God! We serve Jesus Christ who died and was literally pierced so that we could be healed! How does death on a cross equal healing for us? What a miracle it is, what a blessing and a gift. We have been given this gift of grace to live in God’s love and his righteousness but it was bought by the blood of Jesus Christ for us.
Another truth to consider:
We are Healed by touching the fringe of God’s Garment and placing our faith in Him.
“And when the men of the place recognized Him, they sent around to all that region and brought to Him all who were sick and implored Him that they might only touch the fringe of His garment. And as many as touched it were made well.” Matthew 14:35-36
I love the theme that emerges, simply touching the fringe of Jesus’ garment, those who, in faith of God’s power, believe and they are healed by Jesus! Simply touching the garment of Christ in faith that they would be healed…and they were healed!
One of my favorite stories in the Bible, a woman who healed of a twelve-year long illness by touching the garment of Christ in faith illustrates this point further;
“And behold, a woman who had suffered from chronic bleeding for twelve years came up from behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, for she said to herself, ‘If I only touch his garment, I will be made well.’ Jesus turned and seeing her he said, ‘Take heart, daughter, your faith has made you well.’ And instantly, the woman was made well.” Matthew 9:20-22
“And He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” Luke 8:48
“Your Faith Has Made You Well…”
In the next story, it shows how important the body of Christ is for our lives – indeed, it is instrumental in our healing! A group of friends, in faith of the power of Christ, believed that Jesus could heal their paralytic friend. They literally carried him to the feet of Jesus because they knew their friend would be healed if they did.
The Paralytic is Healed:
“And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.” Mark 2:5
And in the face of the scoffers who said Jesus didn’t have the power to forgive sins, Jesus spoke to the paralytic with the authority of one who could indeed heal both body and soul:
“I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.” Mark 2:10
Powerful, that Jesus could both heal and forgive the sins of a man, but not unrelated at all. In fact, the faith of the friends of the paralytic was the faithful witness to God’s healing power in this man’s life. Find yourself friends such as these, and you will be blessed.
Two Blind Men Receive Their Sight:
“When He entered the house, the blind man came to him, and Jesus said to them, ‘Do you believe that I am able to do this?’ They said to him, ‘Yes, Lord.’ Then He touched their eyes, saying, ‘According to your faith be it done to you.’ And their eyes were opened.” Matthew 9:28-29
The faith of God’s people has the power to heal the sick and help one another to be forgiven from the snares of sin. The gathering together of the people of God has the power to save, we must not stop praying together as the body of Christ for the healing of one another and for the brokenness in this world.
“And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.” James 5:15-16
Perhaps, all God wants from us is our whole heart’s devotion, faith and trust in Him alone and not at all in ourselves, what we offer or what we can bring? Childlike faith and reliance upon Jesus, the Great Healer and Great Physician of both body and soul. Do we believe that God is able to heal? Is a doctor’s diagnosis the end of the story for us? What if we see yet another violent act committed on earth against the defenseless? Injustice against the poor, helpless, orphan, sojourner or widow? Do we look at death of a friend or family member as a failure for our lack of faith? I have asked myself this question, “If I had more faith, would this person still be alive?” I don’t know. I know that to be with Christ in eternity is best and sweetest to the Christian who longs to gaze at the beauty of Christ. This earth is not our eternal home. His time is not our time and His ways are not our ways. Honestly, I have struggled with this during the last year acutely. However, despite my doubts and questions regarding the healing power of God and his choice to heal illness or infirmity I know that to place our belief in Him is the safest place I can put my trust.
We can place our trust in our God, He will certainly heal us both in body, soul, mind and spirit, if not fully here on earth, one day in eternity because that is what he has promised to do, and we serve the God who keeps His promises. Praise God!
And God will Heal the Nations:
“Through the middle of the street of the city also, on either side of the river [of Life], the tree of Life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” Revelations 22:2
As for now, I think the charge is clear, we have been given a gift to stand up for Christ in the time in which we live. While the questions still remain, I realized some powerful things after looking at these scriptures; according to our faith in Christ, we will be healed, if our faith is weak so may be our healing. In humility, if we recognize ourselves as unable to live without Christ’s sustaining power, he will lift us up and hold us together. Prayer together and in our own quiet reflection seeking the face of God will turn our hearts towards Him and away from the snares of sin. He is so good and kind, He will forgive us and then He promises to heal us. Indeed, though this is not a new thought, not at all, dying in Christ is the ultimate healing of body and soul because the soul in glory with Christ is 100 % free from affliction and pain. On earth, God does sustain us day by day in his healing power and this is our gift of life which we must never take for granted. We need His presence, our daily bread (both literally – we must eat each day! And spiritually in God’s word.)
I hope that as we all continue towards a path of healing in our lives, both in body and in soul, we will remember the promises of God in His word. It is ok to struggle, but don’t ever forget the faithfulness of Our God. His perfect love casts out all fear! (1 John 4:18)
He is Able. He is willing. He lovingly pursues us. He is Near. He is Good. Praise God!
Blessings in Christ,
Meghan Lacey
Meghan Lacey was raised in sunny and warm climate of Central Florida and has spent the last ten years living in the beautiful foothills of Georgia. She credits her mother, Lyn Lacey, as her inspiration for her artistic endeavors. While still in high school, Meghan received classical drawing and oil painting instruction from Chris DiDomizio from 2008-2012 and watercolor painting instruction from Dylan Scott Pierce from 2009 until 2012. From 2014 to 2015, Meghan took private lessons from portrait artist Leah Burchfield Mantini. She has taken workshops from renowned artists such as Don Sondag, Jordan Sokol, Amaya Gurpide, Mia Bergeron, Anne Blair Brown, Dylan Scott Pierce, Brett Weaver, and Suzy Schultz. During the fall semester of 2016, she studied abroad at Oxford University through the Scholars’ Semester at Oxford, where she studied History of Art as a registered visiting student. Meghan graduated with her B.A. in Art and Design, with a Concentration in Painting and a Minor in Art History at LaGrange College in May of 2017. During the growing season of 2020, she learned the art of organic farming at Serenbe Farms, GA. As of Spring 2021, Meghan is currently pursuing her M.F.A. in Painting, through the Academy of Art University, in San Francisco, CA. She recently was privileged to have her artwork featured in British Vogue’s April, May and June 2021 print and online issues.
Website: www.meghanlacey.com
Instagram: @meghanlaceyartist
Email: meghanlaceyartist@gmail.com
It’s the Day after Easter, and I’m so thankful for this day, Lord. And yesterday. Oh, yes. Yesterday.
Yesterday we awoke early to attend the sunrise service at Point Park. We joined with over 300 other believers, masked and bundled in the near freezing chill, to worship our Risen Savior as the sun rose in bright splendor to our right, off the side of Lookout Mountain.
The brass ensemble trumpeted Your victory over death and then the pastor shared words of hope. After a year of darkness, doubt, and death, we strained to hear Your comforting words.
Mary heard Your voice at the tomb and all of the sudden, despair turned to hope and overwhelming joy.
At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). John 20: 14-16
Peter heard Your voice on the beach, Peter who felt like a failure, who had denied You. And You not only restored him but gave him the highest calling.
When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” John 21: 15
Where do you feel despair? Where do you feel like a failure? Where do you need to go back to Easter with the promise of God’s grace and forgiveness? Once for all, and yet again and again and again. Sweet salvation. A message hand-crafted for you, for me, for all the oh-so-very-human saints.
Easter morning and the days after Easter are once again Your gentle voice saying, “I know your fears, I know your failings. And it’s okay. You’re loved; you’re forgiven. I am with you, and I will NEVER leave you. I know right where you are right now.”
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28: 18
May His words seep into our souls, these words of assurance, as the Lord peels off another layer of pride, of fear, of wondering, calling us to love much because we have been forgiven much.
I am oh, so thankful that the sun rose around us and announced the victory of Jesus yesterday.
And Lord, I am so thankful that today is the day after Easter.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
It happened again, dear Lord, as it so often does. You winked at me.
A few days ago, I was reading along in Matthew, a chapter a day, as part of my Lenten journey. I’d finished reading Matthew 20, with Jesus’s parables about the workers all getting the same pay, no matter how long they worked. And then the first shall be last quote. And Jesus predicting His death as the disciples head with Him to Jerusalem. And James and John’s mom asking for them to sit by Jesus in the kingdom and the ensuing jealousy. And again, Jesus says, the first will be last and the last first.
I was tempted to read Matthew 21—the Triumphal Entry. But I thought, “No, I’ve got all this next week to slowly absorb my Lord’s last days on earth. Tomorrow I’ll read Matthew 21.”
A little later, as I opened my computer, I saw that I had an email from the church secretary about the passage I would be reading in church on Sunday. And when I opened up the Word document with the Scripture printed on it, I read:
Matthew 21: 1-11.
Really, Lord? Really? The emotions swirl, joy, awe, humbling, a little holy fear, gratitude. Your Wink. But this one feels like You’re shouting at me: “Lizzie, I know there is a lot of stuff going on in your life right now that is disturbing. But remember, I’m right here with you. You can never get away from Me. I promise you that.”
I need that reassurance, even though I have that reassurance. You. Are. Here.
You hold all the messy stuff in my little life, in the Covid world, in books and workers and beyond.
Matthew 21 is Your Triumphal Entry.
On that day as I sat with all that was swirling around in me, I thought, “Here is another of Your triumphal entries, Lord. In my life.”
As I read about You on the back of that young donkey, I thought about the novel I am penning which has horses in it, which takes me back to my youth when I was an equestrian.
You know these things. You are the One who shows up, and I wave enthusiastically the palm branch and then fall face down before You, awed and humbled.
I often think about the seasons in our lives as believers. So many changing seasons. But sometimes, sometimes, as we change seasons, there is another triumphal entry. You barge into our day in a way we can’t miss despite our worries and fears and temptations and failings.
You show up in an astoundingly personal way, simply because You can. And You know that this is what I need. A very personal triumphal entry, just for me.
You know, Lord, that I in no way am trying to take away from the Real Triumphal Entry. I am simply awestruck at Your timing. In my life, You knock down all the ‘it’s just a coincidence’ arguments again and again, by showing up and showing me that You know. You know exactly where I am in my life, exactly what I reading (or not reading) in the Word, exactly what my next day and week will be.
I don’t know.
But You come in, again and again, humbly, figuratively riding on that donkey, that look of love and compassion in Your eyes, and say, “I know where you are, dearest daughter, my Lizzie. Fix your eyes on Me. Keep them fixed on Me. You won’t always ‘see’ Me as clearly as today, when I invade your life in a such a personal way. But I’m here. Always. You have known it, but today I thought I’d shout my whisper and wink a little ‘louder’. Just because I love You. And I can.”
Where have you seen Jesus’s triumphal entry in your life lately? It might be a pink blossom on a cherry tree or the sweet kiss of a child or a little coincidence that isn’t a coincidence. Take time and praise Him for it right now.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
Easter 2021 Multi-Author Giveaway – Hope For Times Like These
This time last year we were entering a time of real uncertainty and this year that uncertainty continues. These are good times to remind ourselves to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. 14 authors have joined together to offer stories to help us do this.
I’ll be giving away copies of The Swan House which will be celebrating its 20th anniversary in June!
It’s a privilege to join with these authors, several of whom are close personal friends.
I hope you’ll join the Giveaway here.
And I’d like to leave you with a little bit of Spring.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
Once again, I’m delighted to welcome Margaret Kirby as my guest blogger this week. May you be blessed by her words as I have been.
Have you ever felt like you’re living in a book? I mean those moments when some small detail comes to your attention and you take a step back to look at it and you realize it’s somehow a symbol for what’s going on in your life in that very moment? I tend to think there are little details left along the pathways of all of our stories by an Author, trying to leave us hints and draw us back to Him. And part of living in the kingdom is walking with open eyes and open hearts, waiting and watching for those moments when His hand peeks from behind the next page over and we see Him touching the heart of our stories in the here and now. “You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain” (Psalm 139:5-6).
Some things are so wonderful and so lofty that they require looking up or else we’ll miss them. There is so much in the here and now, so much that we can easily close ourselves off to, if we’re not careful. I’ve been noticing how my busy schedule closes me off from noticing these details, and not only that, but the way I can easily spend a whole day thinking about my own affairs and business without ever really looking up– that closes me off. Sometimes I feel like the shoulders of my soul are hunched and overburdened and my entire self is fixated only on the ground in front of me. But “when I awake, I am still with you” (Psalm 139:18). When one of those little details comes into view like love notes left on my path, then I can finally expand my lungs and breathe again; it’s a catch of the breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, a waking up and I look upward with all my might, searching for the face of the One who left me that little love note on the ground. “How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand” (Psalm 139:17-18).
Recently, his precious-love-note-thought came to me in the form of a song. I was washing the dishes, thinking about a good conversation I had had the previous night with a dear friend, and the words came to me then, and with them the sense that I had been singing them in my head off and on throughout the whole day without really catching hold of them, without really seeing them for what they were: a reminder from the One writing my story to look up. And I held those words in my soapy hands, looking at the way they shone rainbow glints in the kitchen light as I stood there and gazed at them. It was the text of a song, “Fill this Cup,” that was resting in my mind: “I don’t know how long it’s been. I won’t step so quickly over this. Waltz across the universe, beauty more than I deserve. It’s right here, breathe it in, I’ve been missing all of this. Let the laughter sound again, let the light come rushing in. Catch the sun, raise it up, come and fill this empty cup” (by “The Dailys”).
There have been so many wonderful things happening in my life, but the busyness of everything has made me skim over some parts far too sweet for skimming. In that moment, I didn’t know how long it had been since I last looked up, and I didn’t know how long those words had been floating in my mind, but that was okay, because all that mattered was that they had roused me to breathe and to be, to watch and to waltz. And it did, it felt like stepping into a dance, stepping into a rhythm and almost a trance. I looked around me at my life, I got beyond myself to peek over my own shoulder and finally see what was truly comprising my life– not myself, but the dearness of sweet friends and family, the joy of good conversations and seeking to understand one another, the quiet silence of a moment in the woods looking at buttercups, and finding I was understood in full when I least expected it… and always the presence of the One leaving me love notes. Always. Beauty more than I deserve. It’s right here– breathe it in. I don’t know how long it’s been, but oh, I won’t step so quickly over this. Let me not step so quickly over this, sweet Lord.
Margaret Kirby is a junior at Samford University pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English with a double-minor in Classics and Philosophy. She is a member of Sigma Tau Delta, the Wide Angle editorial staff, and she sings in the A Cappella choir. Some of the things she loves most are the sky, old books, the smell of coffee, and the way food brings people together. She especially loves her Southern authors (mainly Sidney Lanier and Eudora Welty), and she also considers George MacDonald to be her grandfather in the faith. Her main purpose in life is to re-discover the magic of being a little child in the kingdom of God. So when she isn’t reading, writing, or singing, you can probably find her out gazing at clouds, wandering through forests, or looking for fairies.
You can find her on instagram @margaret.kirby.writing
Elizabeth Musser 