Finding the blessing

It has been a difficult few days in our area.  The tornado took a toll on all of us. If we didn't have damage to our homes or lose electricity, we probably know someone who did. There has been tremendous grief and a mountain of worry.  

In the midst of the trouble, the wound patients have found it hard to be as compliant as usual with things like eating enough protein, staying off their foot, and keeping the dressing changed as often as ordered. They've missed appointments in an attempt to avoid bad weather. It's just been a jumble at our office trying to work around the storm warnings and the storm damage. 

That might not seem like a big deal, but I am very particular about compliance so the wounds will get well quickly. (I've heard I'm pretty demanding.) Today, one of the first patients I saw immediately began making apologies for not doing what they were supposed to have done. Much to my surprise, I just smiled and said, "Oh, that's okay. It's been a hard few days. I'm not fussing at anyone this week.  You get a pass. Just do better next week." The patient was speechless for a minute, then started smiling. "Thanks!" I talked about how the wound was doing and spent the rest of our time finding out about how the storm had affected them. 

After I'd let one person off so easily, I couldn't suddenly get tough again, so I've "given passes" all day. We've had enough hard times this week.  Who wants to add a demanding doctor to everything else?  As I talked with the patients about the storm, I was surprised by how it had affected them. Some were without power. A few had lost a loved one. Some had freezers filled with food in danger of spoiling. The interesting thing was that, though most people had some kind of trouble related to the storm, they all had a blessing of some kind for which they were grateful. 

One man was a child during the tornado of 1936. He was grateful that the clean up wasn't mule-driven this time around. After he described the work back then, I was too. He'd also lived through a tornado that killed his good white horse. He was very grateful that not one of his horses was killed this time round. 

Another man was grateful for his good insurance that would reimburse him for the food in the freezer if it spoils. Everyone was grateful that their trouble hadn't been worse. 

At the end of the day, I was telling someone about the "grace in the storm" project.  As I talked, I realized I had been dispensing grace all day, and I really liked it. So, here's some grace for you: 

Do better tomorrow. 

Apologize to The Lord for your failures and just do better tomorrow. 

Grace. 

It feels good, doesn't it? Now, it's your turn. Spread some grace around.  Have fun!

The Least of These (Luke 7:4,5)

When they came to Jesus, they earnestly implored Him, saying, "He is worthy for You to grant this to him; for he loves our nation and it was he who built us our synagogue." (Luke 7:4, 5 NASB)

It's easy to lose sight of the individual when we focus on the "stuff" of life, isn't it?  That's what happened with the elders in this story. When they approached Jesus, they were asking Him to do what the centurion wanted. Their rationale was that he had been generous to the nation of Israel. Nothing in their conversation indicates a concern for the servant. The less important patient entered into their request only because of the centurion. 

There's nothing wrong with wanting to fulfill a request for those who are most prominent in society. The problem comes when we are so focused on the ones on the top of the social ladder that we fail to notice the ones on the bottom of the social ladder. Before God, we are all just sinners saved by the mercy and grace of God. It took equal mercy for God to pay our penalty for sin. We should distribute equal grace. 

In a time of great need, such as the one we are currently facing in our state, we need to be the ones looking for the need no one else has noticed. No one but Jesus. There will be many helping with the most obvious needs. Let's be the ones who look for the need only Jesus has seen. He cares for every single one. We should, too.  

Pray today that our hearts would be filled with gratitude for the care God has lavished on us and filled with compassion for those who need His love. Pray, too, that our compassion will spur us to action and seeing our good works will bring glory to God and point the way to Him for those we love the most. 

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Here's the link for last night's post: http://leannahollis.blogspot.com/2014/04/tupelo-tornado-seeking-to-save.html

Tupelo Tornado: Seeking to Save

Needless to say, the tornado yesterday is still uppermost in my mind. There have been countless stories of grace in the midst of the storm, and I hope to hear every single one before I'm done. The story tonight is one from my office. I'm still astounded. 

Our office was right in the path of the storm. It crossed over us. We heard it overhead, we were spared, and we are still incredibly grateful. 

I waited out the storm in the biohazard room of our office with four of our nurses. When we finally got the all-clear, we rose from the floor and, with shaky legs made our way out of the safe haven. As we began to gather our things to head home, Louise clearly was in no hurry to leave. "Are you ready to go?" someone asked her. "No," she said. "I'm waiting on Mark. He's on his way down here."  

Louise's husband, Mark, is a farmer just outside Blue Springs. He had been monitoring the storm and keeping in touch with Louise. When it was clear the tornado was coming our way, we headed into the safe room. What we didn't know was that Mark also realized the tornado was headed our way and that we were directly in it's path. He tried to call his sweet wife. No answer. He tried texting. No response. He tried it all again. You can well imagine his thoughts. 

This worried husband did the only thing that made sense to him at the time. He got in his truck and drove to get his wife. She was in danger and he was going to rescue her. No knight in shining armor was ever more brave. Mark arrived at the office within minutes of our leaving the safe room, which means he was driving directly toward an active tornado to seek for and save his wife. 

That, my friends, is real love in action. It is, in fact, the very love Christ has demonstrated toward us. He, too, came to seek and save those who were in mortal danger, perishing from the whirlwind of our own sinful choices. He, too, braved the fury of hell itself to save His bride, the church. 

It's amazing to me, but this gentle, kind man loves his wife EXACTLY like Christ loves the church. He was willing to risk everything to save her.  If you asked him, he would say, "It was no big deal.  I just couldn't get her and didn't know what was happening." He doesn't even see himself as a hero, but he is. If you ask me, Louise is the luckiest woman I know. She's married to a real-life knight in shining armor who would lay down his life to save her!

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I'm collecting stories of grace in the midst of the storm for a book to benefit storm victims. If you'd be willing to share your story of grace please message me or email it to graceinthestorm@gmail.com

A question of worth (Luke 7:4,5)

When they came to Jesus, they earnestly implored Him, saying, "He is worthy for You to grant this to him; for he loves our nation and it was he who built us our synagogue." (Luke 7:4, 5 NASB)

Worthy. The word translated here as worthy (axios) is sometimes used to mean "having the weight of another thing of like value". In the eyes of the Jewish elders, the good deeds of the centurion had equal weight to the healing of the servant that they were requesting. What good deeds would be that weighty? The centurion loved Israel, presumably treating them kindly instead of as a conquering officer might. In addition, he had built them a synagogue, the ruins of which are still visible today. 

I've stood in the ruins of that synagogue, and it is beautiful. At the time of Jesus, when it was still a new building, it must have been astoundingly grand to the people in that simple little town. Even if the work was done by the soldiers under the command of the centurion, it would have been a tremendous expense. That synagogue was a "good deed", no doubt about it. 

When we compare Christ's righteousness and our unrighteousness, however, it becomes clear that none of us are worthy. In fact, Paul wrote that very thing. "As it is written, "There is none righteous, not even one;"(Romans 3:10 NASB) 

He was quoting from a passage in Psalms that sums up the whole question of worthiness quite nicely. 

"The Lord has looked down from heaven upon the sons of men To see if there are any who understand, Who seek after God. They have all turned aside, together they have become corrupt; There is no one who does good, not even one." (Psalms 14:2, 3 NASB)

When God looks at us, not one among us has the understanding He desires for us. Not one of us is good. Not a single one of us. Not me. Not you. Not even the kind and generous centurion. 

When we understand this simple concept, we have taken the first step in understanding the tremendous mercy and grace with which our Lord has treated us. Understanding our own unworthiness should give us a heart filled with compassion for those who are as unworthy as we to receive the love of Christ, yet equally in need. 

Today, pray that we and our loved ones would grasp the vast difference between our unworthiness and Christ's great worth and be overwhelmed by the mercy and grace He has shown to us. 

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The link to last night's post is here: http://leannahollis.blogspot.com/2014/04/tornado-in-tupeloreport-from-safe-room.html

Tornado in Tupelo:report from the safe room

It was deadly silent a few minutes ago, but now we hear the blowing. It is insanely loud, and I don't really like this sound at all. 

It seems like half an eternity ago, but surely it was less, that I received an alert on my phone.  "Tornado warning in effect. Take shelter immediately."  I, who have never darkened the door of a storm shelter before, herded the four nurses here into the biohazard room.  I'm so very glad I did.

Now, I am enclosed in the safest place in our office building with four of our nurses. As we handed out blankets and settled ourselves on the floor, Cathy laughed and said, "We could sing Kumbaya..."  We all laughed with her, but there was already a song playing in my head. You might know it. 

"Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus. How I've proved you o'er and o'er. Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus. Oh for grace to trust you more."

I don't know who wrote it at the moment, but it has turned this little safe room into a sacred place. 

I can see deep concern on the faces of these nurses I have grown to love so dearly, and maybe there is also a little fear. For lack of anything better to do, I began to tell about another time when I wasn't quite safe. 

As I talked about that refining fire that I faced as a 21 year old girl on the border of Honduras and El Salvador, gunfire clearly audible around me, I explained that it was a defining moment in my life. I found there was solid rock inside me and I understood who I was at the deepest point. I do not have to be afraid because I know whose I am. Life is not about my stuff. I don't know what I said, or if it helped them, but it has helped to settle me. 

We have laughed. We have prayed. We have text'd messages to those we love. We have taken phone calls from worried family members. I have started a blog post from our safe room. 

Just as I wrote a letter to my family with final words from that village so long ago, I stop to text my son something he can remember. Just in case. "I love you," I write. That's not enough. Just in case, I send another message. "I'm counting on you to be the man God created you to be."  I can't imagine what he thinks, but I do not know that we will leave this room alive. 

A few minutes ago, we heard an eerie knocking. I went to investigate and found the front door open and banging back and forth. It is as black as night outside.  The wind sucked the door out of my hand. It was a battle to close it, and I thought, "This is not good. Not good at all."  I've locked all but one door, and as I headed back to our makeshift shelter, I hoped that someone could find us if the tornado hit here. 

My sister has called to give up updates as she watches the weather reports. Her heart is broken as she recounts the path of the tornado through this big-hearted town. WTVA has sent their people to the safe room. They are in the path of the storm. They broadcast until the moment they didn't. Off the air. She doesn't know what has happened but that horridly loud sound, that deadly silence, the noise again make us think the worst. I'm afraid it is the worst. 

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At last, we emerge, a little shakily as we stand on legs that have been folded long enough to be numb. Cars are driving. The air is clear and still. Limbs and leaves are everywhere, but we are unharmed. 

Safe. We are safe. What a lovely little word. I haven't appreciated it nearly enough, but I do now. There's another word I grew to love today. Spared. We were spared, and, though I have no idea what destruction the tornado has left behind, I know that being spared will make a lifetime of difference. 

(There is extensive destruction. Reports are only now coming out. Prayers are needed. We do not yet know about injuries and deaths.) 

What is your motivation? (Luke 7:2-4)

And a centurion's slave, who was highly regarded by him, was sick and about to die. When he heard about Jesus, he sent some Jewish elders asking Him to come and save the life of his slave. When they came to Jesus, they earnestly implored Him, saying, "He is worthy for You to grant this to him; (Luke 7:2-4 NASB)

The centurion was not Jewish. He was Gentile, Roman, and an outsider. His good deeds, however, had endeared him to the Jewish elders. He had a need that only the itenerate Jewish teacher could meet, and asked the elders to help him make the connection. Considering the way the elders in general scorned Jesus, it's a laughable request, until you realize that they actually approached Jesus asking for a miracle on the centurion's behalf. 

Nowhere in this passage are they described as disciples or as followers. They are described simply as Jewish elders, but there must have been a glimmer of faith or they would not have worded their request as they did.  When we look at the elders' request, it is apparent that they knew Jesus could heal the servant. There was no doubt about it. In fact, they recognized that only Jesus could meet the need. 

The question I have is why? Why were they willing to do what the centurion asked? Was it because he was part of the Roman occupying force and, thus, had the authority to compel them? Was it because he was generous with the people and had built their synagogue? Was their motivation gratitude for what the centurion had done or greed hoping for more?  Could they have been sincerely concerned for the servant and desiring only healing for him?

Why. It's a good question for us to answer as well. Why are we coming to Jesus? Is it just for what He can do for our loved ones or overwhelming gratitude for what He's already done. I have a friend who often prays, "Jesus, if you never do another thing for me, what you've already done is more than enough." 

Today, pray that our motivation for approaching Christ would be clear and that we would have purity of heart in seeking redemption for those we love. Be sure that, in your asking, you include thanksgiving for what He's already done. 

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Here's the link for last might's post:  

http://leannahollis.blogspot.com/2014/04/storms-in-northeast-mississippi-maggie.html

 

Storms in Northeast Mississippi: Maggie battles fear

Maggie the Wonder Dog does not like storms. She doesn't mind a rainy day at all. Those are good for snuggling, and she loves snuggling. She does not like thunderstorms, booming thunder, or flashing lightening, though. She toughs it out, as any Wonder Dog would, but she sure doesn't like it. 

This afternoon, I've kept one eye on the weather. Bill the Magnificent was out of town and off this weekend, so I've had the farm to myself, as well as the feeding chores. 

I had planned to feed at 3:00. It was early for the horses and goats, but they like chow any time and I was hoping to beat the bad weather. Not long before 3:00, I headed out, stopping to put on my barn shoes. It wasn't raining, so I almost skipped my rain suit. Almost. At the last minute I donned the full suit, and I was really glad I did. 

Just as I stepped off the screened porch, it started to rain. By the time I got to the barn, the thunder and lightening had started. My adventures in the storm are fodder for another post, but I got everyone fed and headed back to the house. 

Mamie the apprentice wonder puppy was waiting for me at the door. She is very energetic, so she ran in circles and hopped around a bit. Maggie was nowhere to be found. I checked every room downstairs. No Maggie. I went upstairs. No Maggie. Where was she? I had no idea. 

Finally, I made the rounds again, calling her name. When I looked in my bedroom, I saw two dark eyes looking out from under a pillow on my bed. When there is a storm at night and she's afraid, I always let her on my bed and snuggle her until she is peaceful again. When the storm started today, Maggie had gone to the one place she can count on to find comfort in a storm. She was on my bed, underneath a mountain of pillows, waiting for me. No whimpering, no trembling, just still and waiting. I can't begin to tell you how glad she was to see me!

Maggie has pretty good sense about finding comfort in a storm, doesn't she? Storms can be scary, no matter what form they take. I'm not sure I've always done as well with the storms of life. When hard times come, it's easy to find comfort in the most convenient place. For some people, it's drugs or alcohol. For others, it's food. For me, it's work and worry. If we would just stop long enough to remember that verse we learned as children, "What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee" (Psalm 56:3) we would know exactly what to do and where to turn in our fear, in our storms. 

As the coming storms rage, the lightening flashes, and the thunder rolls, let them be a reminder of the only One who can be trusted with any storm you face, and put your trust in Him.