God's Schoolroom: Part I

     Psalm 19:1-6 captures so well the textbook that is God's creation: 

"The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of His hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
   It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
    like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
    and makes its circuit to the other;
    nothing is deprived of its warmth."

     What is the "knowledge" that we may gain through observing the heavens?  May I offer a few interpretations?
1.  God is a One Who desires order:  If you look up every night, the same basic constellations appear, season after the season.  We are blessed to see the Milky Way, a gossamer curtain of stars waving across the heavens, as if a cosmic wind is gently carrying it along.  It appears every summer, and never ceases to amaze us.  The heavens shows order and design--not a randomness.  
     The Hawaiians have a legend about the Sun, who loved to dash about the sky, sometimes scorching the Earth by coming too close and sometimes freezing the Earth as he wandered too far away.  The god, Maui, takes the matter into his own hands, and beats the Sun, punishing him for not staying in place.  To have the stars dash about and the Sun not rise consistently would make for a fearful universe.  
     God's creation speaks of order:  planets and stars in their place and the laws of gravity conducting the dance of the heavens every night.
2.  The heavens speak of God's presence:  How often is our breath taken away by the beauty of the heavens on a summer night?  Or looking up on a quiet chilly winter's evening, don't we marvel at the diamond-like twinkle of the winter constellations?  To look up and not see the Hand of Someone would be the same as going to the Sistine Chapel and saying that with enough time and paint, that magnificent ceiling "just happened."  If we just listen, we can hear creation saying, "Look to the One Who is still here..."  
     Unlike the idea of the Divine Watchmaker, who was seen to just have started up everything and then walked away, the Creation speaks of His enduring presence:  

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross (Colossians 1:15-20).  

     God is so involved in His creation that when man chose to disobey, and sin entered creation and defaced it, God's presence did not depart.  He made a provision to reunite Himself and His creation through His Son--we choose to sin and we can choose to take hold of His Son.
3.  God is there, but you have to look for Him:  The heavens do not use words, but they still tell of His presence.  God's "words" if you will, are an indication of His provision--without the Sun, there would be no warmth, no crops, and survival would be close to impossible.  Mars is a balmy 50 degrees in the summer, but at night, the temperatures will plunge to an uninhabitable -50 degrees.  In the winter, it is below freezing, even in the daytime.  Why?  Because the Sun's warmth does not remain captured by its all-too-thin atmosphere, and it is much further away from the Sun as us.  The Sun for planet Earth is literally God-sent; without it, we would be doomed.  But the Sun itself is not what gives life:  God does. 
      Yet, God gives us the choice to believe in Him:  we can walk outside and feel the warmth of the Sun.  For some, sadly, that's all they want.  But God is there, waiting for us to seek Him.  He does not force His way into our path and says, "Hey!  Look!  You need to love Me!"  But, under the warmth of the Sun, we may feel stirred to seek the One Who made it and like the sun's journey through the heavens, we too may journey and find Him:  “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened (Matthew 7:7-12).
     God's creation speaks to us:  it invites us to come and know more of the One Who put it altogether.  While God doesn't impose Himself into our lives, His creation is one big invitation.   And yet it is more than that:  it's a love letter written on the parchment of the planet.  He is hiding...in plain sight!

²³ “Am I only a God nearby,”
declares the Lord,
    “and not a God far away?
²⁴ Who can hide in secret places
    so that I cannot see them?”
declares the Lord.
    “Do not I fill heaven and earth?”
declares the Lord (Jer. 23:23-24).

I'm BACK!

I have been away for awhile.  I am amazed that it has been two whole months since I last blogged--where did the time go?

Well, I am an instructor for the College of Western Idaho, and the end of the semester is a busy time for us.  So, no time to blog.

I had shoulder surgery as soon as school was over--no time to blog.  Really, I couldn't type with a shoulder in a sling!

It strikes me as I sit down today to blog how busy our lives are and how "the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry."  Robert Burns wrote that--he's the national poet of Scotland, and what inspired that line and the poem it's from, was one day, he was out plowing.  He was a farmer's son. His plow blade soon struck a mouse's nest.  Of course, the wee mouse went scampering away, all in a panic, and he was saddened at what he had done.  The nest was the mouse's protection against the cold and it had put a lot of work into creating that little shelter.  He grieves that all that work should be undone from one swipe of a blade and he muses how so much of what we do can suddenly become undone as well.  Here is the poem, in English, and it is a delight.

Small, crafty, cowering, timorous little beast,
O, what a panic is in your little breast!
You need not start away so hasty
With argumentative chatter!
I would be loath to run and chase you,
With murdering plough-staff.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes you startle
At me, your poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal!
I doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;
What then? Poor little beast, you must live!
An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
I will get a blessing with what is left,
And never miss it.
Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse grass green!
And bleak December's winds coming,
Both bitter and keen!
You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter's sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still you are blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!

The one thing the mouse is not concerned with is either the past nor the present--the wee thing lives only in the here and now.  The poet is not so lucky--nor are we.  We look back at the time we have lost and we look forward to what may be--afraid that the unknown will be unhappy.

But, as a Christian, I know where I have built my "nest"--on Christ's words. 

²⁴ “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. ²⁵ The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. ²⁶ But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷ The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” (Matthew 7:24-27)

Notice that the wind and the rain hits both houses.  It's not the house itself (how good you are) but what you build your house ON--Christ's words of promise and strength for the fight.  

Yes, life's plow blades might take out your house, leaving you in a field, afraid and feeling alone.  But remember this:  "I may not know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future."

It's good to be back writing and sharing with you!

What Did Ya Plant?

Late last fall, my son and I planted bulbs...plenty of bulbs!  The only requirement was that small marking on the box, showing a deer with a circle and a slash through it.  I didn't want the deer to think that we added some new menu items to the "salad bar" that they consider my raised beds to be. 

So, after buying about ten boxes, away we went.  We both dug holes into the raised beds, and within about a half of an hour, we were done.   I tore the lids off the boxes, just so I could remember exactly what we planted.  I put the lids on my bulletin board, and awaited the magic of spring.

One problem:  I didn't mark on the beds what we planted where.  Sure, I had the lids to remind me, but no little signs in the soil, designating what was under the surface.  The snow came and went, and then in early February, we had a few intrepid sprigs rise up.  I was concerned, and had a chat to those early risers.  It was too early to come springing up in the world...the winter leaves the mountains not until middle May.  Did my early risers listen?  Nah, but I figured the ensuing cold would dampen their enthusiasm and slow them down.  And sure enough, that's what happened.

Then finally April brought enough warm days to encourage more peeking up through the soil.  The problem is, what am I looking at?  Without a beautiful flower to identify the plant, I am not such a good gardener that I can look at a stock and say, "Oh, that's going to be a so and so."  Nope.  Not me.  So, I must keep waiting until the flowers make their appearances.  Even then, we planted some flowers I couldn't identify and I had to go get the lids and see what these wee beauties are.

 I thought about our life as Christians.  When we are young in the faith, many things get planted:  sermons, fellowship and discussions with other believers, movies, and music are sown into our hearts and take root.  We may not always remember what we read or what we saw, but then it flowers into our lives and can bring beauty to those around us. 

I went to a small neighbor church as a young believer and had beautiful role models all around me, who planted good seed in my young heart:  how to love as a believer, how to model Jesus to a hurting world, and how to care genuinely for those around us.  I got a good Biblical grounding and spent many mornings at prayer meetings, listening to older saints pray for themselves and others.  Sure, not everything was rosy; there were some people there who were more concerned about themselves than the tender heart of a teenager, but the love I felt overshadowed these folks.  My family was falling apart and this church truly became a second home.  I had a new family and felt love and acceptance that my chaotic home couldn't provide.

The flowers in my life today I see having sprung forth from those early years.  The verse from Galatians 6:7 comes to mind:  "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."  I think we always read that in the negative sense:  sow sin, reap pain.  But I also see God's justice operates on the positive side as well:  sow love, reap peace.  His justice is breathtakingly simple:  if we seek to do His will, He will walk with us, sustain us and give us peace.  The inverse is equally true:  if we avoid His will and seek sin, He will stand at a distance, wait for us to "come to our senses" and will grieve over the pain we feel.  He will patiently await our repentance. 

Sometimes we don't remember what we've planted...and the resulting harvest can be a mixture of peace and pain.  Or sometimes we are careless and the pain springs up and we blame God.  And yet, the Bible can be our "lids"--it shows us the way we are to go, what to plant and what to expect:  "He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God"  (Micah 6:8).

That's fairly straight forward.  That's doesn't mean that life will always be perfect--our peace comes from the Father through His Son, not from our circumstances.  The world will give and the world will take away--more often it takes away painfully.  Jesus plants within us the one thing that the world cannot plant in our hearts:  "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14:27).

Plant love.  Plant forgiveness.  Plant a garden of patience with one another.  The love of God is always the perfect item to have blooming in your heart:  "Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God."  (1 John 4:7). 

In a world of pain and darkness, can God's love be shared too much?  That would like saying there are too many daffodils in the world...

Be A Finch

The winter is slowly leaving the mountains.  The mountains are starting to green up--there's  a faint green tint to the surrounding hills.  The wildflowers haven't shown up; the days are still not warm enough.  The soil is quite moist, but the warmth is compromised by cold winds and low temperatures during the evening.  

So, the colors are rather muted up here.  My daffodils are popping up and giving me a splash of yellow.  But one wee splash of color outdoes them all--the arrival of a goldfinch.

The gray skies, the leafless trees, the dried dead grasses that cling to a cold soil...and then magic!  A goldfinch comes to my feeders...a drop of sunshine in the Russian olive tree outside my kitchen window.

I am delighted that he has arrived and he is delighted that a lunch awaits him.  I stare out the window and he has no fear, just an earnest desire to eat what he can to stay warm.

I thought he is so representative of how we can be a drop of sunshine to a cold world that awaits the spring.  Look at Galatians 5:22-23:  

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."  

Think about it:  everything the Spirit wants to grow in our lives is in direct opposition to what the world offers.  The love the world offers has strings--you do for me and I might do for you.  Love really boils down to:  if you are meeting my needs--if I don't feel love or you are not pleasing me, my love for you grows cold.  Not so with the love from His Spirit:  we love because He loves us and knowing how unworthy we are of His love, we are humbled.   We are loved, so we can take our full cup and offer some of what is running over to someone whose cup is empty.

Joy.  Wow--the world says that joy comes from stuff--bigger houses, better jobs, nicer cars...and once we have what we thought would bring us joy, we find we need more.  The joy God gives is not based on external gratification, but on the knowledge that He has us in His hands.  A favorite quote is "I may not know what the futures holds, but I know Who holds the future."

Peace.  No surprise there--with the world motivated by self, it's little wonder that peace is elusive here.  Jesus gives us a peace based on Himself--He love and provision for us.  The world giveth and loves to taketh away.  Not so with God--He loves us and always has our best in mind.

Forbearance.  "Hurry up!" screams the world.  With a toddler-like mentality, we want it now, yet beg others to be patient with us.  God's love is long-suffering.  He watches and waits.  He suffers with our griefs and pain.  

If just for one day, everyone on planet Earth practiced goodness (thinking of others), kindness (treating others as we like to be treated), gentleness (treating each other with tenderness), and faithfulness (standing by through thick and thin), what a day that would be!  A little like heaven, don't you think? 

Self-control.  Road rage, war, violence, hatred, hurt...if we lay down arms, and trust the One Who stands by us to stand for us, then we can act graciously, knowing He will bring all things to right some day.

If we are growing in His Spirit and seeking His fruit to hang from our branches, think of the beauty we can bring to others.  Notice, however, one thing about our finch--he is not yet in full spring plumage.  He still has sploshes of white and gray in his yellow feathers.  He's not perfect, yet in the gray world of late winter, his yellow with all its imperfections is still beautiful.

No, we aren't perfect yet...we certainly won't be perfect this side of heaven.  But think of it--in a gray world, still laboring under the deceitfulness of sin, even a wee splash of yellow to a weary soul is delightful.  You don't have to be perfect to show Jesus' love.

Cheat Grass of the Heart

Last summer, we had a terrible fire.  It wasn't huge, but any time you watch a fire burn out of control, it feels epic.  The ground has been scorched black since last summer and all the surrounding trees are still black sticks.  With the snow covering the ground, it was a bit easier to forget the damage, but now that the snow is all but gone, the black ground reappears in all its ugliness.

But, something new is covering the ground...Look:

Yup, it's cheat grass.  Here's what the Internet has to say about it: "Cheat grass is notorious for its ability to thrive in disturbed areas—common disturbances include construction, fire, floods, poor grazing activities, and intense recreation."  So true!  It is covering, slowly but surely, the whole area that was burned.  The secret to its success?  A wide spreading root system!  Its invasionary tactics will lead to further fires as it covers more and more, because it's a highly inflammable grass.

Makes me stop and wonder:  I love the new green carpet that is being laid down over the scorched earth, but now that I know what it is and what it will bring, I am less excited and a bit more reserved in my praise of this new life.  

This is Easter Week and it commenced with Jesus riding humbly on a donkey into the city of Jerusalem, to the people's cries of acclamation and praise.  In less than a week, many people would be shouting to Pilate for His death.  The people thought that the kind of life Jesus was bringing was going to be Roman-free.  He would use His mighty power (having been demonstrated with miraculous healings and even bringing the dead to life) to remove the ugly Roman presence from the promised land of God's chosen.  The scars of Roman oppression were everywhere, and Jesus seemed to be bringing a new kind of kingdom to cover the ugliness and bring new life to the people.

But Jesus' kingdom was not "cheat grass."  He didn't come to merely cover over the Romans with a new kind of rule by the Jews.  His kingdom was not going to be on the outside, visible to all and springing up quickly wherever He walked.  He knew the hearts of men:  merely overturning the social order would only lead to new oppression--sadly, those who are victimized often, when given power, will turn just as vicious as those they replaced. 

Jesus came to set up a kingdom in a renewed heart.  As Jesus observed: "For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:21-3).  So, we can change the system and overturn the existing order, but without a changed heart, all the same sins come roaring in again, and make even the best efforts fail.

The people turned on Jesus when they realized His kingdom would not meet their demands.  Their hearts were angry and then turned wrathful.  How quickly they wanted the "cheat grass" of overturning the existing order to come and yet Jesus has a much more long-term solution in mind:  the real inward growth in each person's heart.  In other words, Jesus wanted spring in our hearts:  slow, germinating seeds of change, nurtured by the warmth of the Son and watered by the rains of His presence.  A heart so grown would produce a bounty of beauty:  "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires." (Gal. 5:22-4).  

That's why He died:  so that such fruit could be brought forth from a scorched heart from sin, and that spring would arrive in the ones who love Him.  No cheat grass--just a heart made new.  May spring and Easter be in your heart as you seek the risen Savior.  Just go to the tomb and look inside:  He is not there.  Ask Him into your heart, and that is where He will be.

The Wages of Sin Are: Empty Feeders

A few weeks ago, I mentioned the deer who came and raided my feeders.  I have not refilled them, for I was angry at the deer and didn't want to encourage them to forage at my feeders.  I didn't want the mama deer to teach their young ones bad habits.  The feeders are easy to get to and are probably far more temptingly tasty than that nasty late-winter grass. 

I have not refilled the feeders now for at least two weeks.  No more deer...'tis true.  But my daily round of bird visitors has ceased as well.  No more sparrows, finches and now only an occasional mourning dove shows up and takes shelter under the Russian olive tree. 

Usually, the smaller birds, as they are eating out of the feeders, spill quite a bit of seed on the ground and rocks beneath.  The smaller birds eat in the morning, and by the time the sun rises higher in the sky, the little birds depart.  I suspect that in the shadows, the wee birds feel safe; as soon as the sunlight illuminates the area, they are so much more vulnerable to the hawks who fly overhead, ready to swoop down.  The doves wait patiently, and in the afternoons, they nibble at all of the fallen seed and then roost quietly under the Russian olive tree.

It's a nice community:  a ready "table" spread before the birds and all benefit...except when the deer intrude.  Then, because it's detrimental to feed the deer, I haven't refilled the feeders and my community has ceased to be.  I miss my morning visitors and my late afternoon guests...all activity has stopped and now the feeders sway in the wind with an occasional visit from a miffed magpie, who is wondering where all the bounty went.

This wee drama has provided me a kind of meditation on sin.   I openly and freely fill up my feeders...I do not charge for a "lunch" and so my gift is truly free.  I actively and consistently fill them up and feel badly when they are empty and a little bird perches on the feeder to no avail.  I was angry at the deer, but now the emptiness around the feeders makes me long for all of that frantic activity with goldfinches, sparrows, juncos, finches and doves all enjoying the bounty.  Yes, the occasional hawk shows up, but the little birds seem to take a predator's presence all in stride.  It's just part of the scene.

So, this made me think of our heavenly Father.  He is angry at the deer of sin...they destroy His creation, and cause grief to all.  They knock His beautiful gifts about and when finished, leave without any remorse, on the hunt for new grazing.  God loves us too much to tolerate sin's presence, so He allows His heavy hand to fall on us--He sometimes leaves the feeders empty for awhile. 

But, I am sure that He misses the joyful sound that comes from when His children are laughing and enjoying the fellowship of His bounty, with Him and with each other.  So, the silence of sin leaves Him no choice:  His chastening hand is withdrawn and He refills our feeders:  "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness" (Lam. 3:22-3).  He forgives us, for He "knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust" (Psalm 103:14).

He takes sin very seriously.  But:  "for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor"  (Isaiah 61:3).  God was comforting His people, for although they had sinned and were feeling results of His displeasure, the restoration was promised and granted.  The same holds true for us.

As Easter approaches, we can take into our hearts two great truths:  God is holy and cannot abide the presence of sin and He is also loving, and gave His own Son to pay for that sin...to restore us and to bring us back into His fellowship that sin had destroyed.  After we accept this free gift, He welcomes us back. 

Tomorrow morning:  the first thing I will do (actually the second thing, right after making a cup of tea) is to refill the feeders.  I look forward to the return of the wee birdies...Restoration is a beautiful thing.
 

    

Whose Footprints?

My bird feeders have been emptying much quicker these days--either the birds are very hungry (could be, it's still quite cold and windy in these mountains) or something else is afoot.  I have no way to tell...I fill the feeders, and a day or so later, I see a lot of seed on the ground and the feeders are near to empty.  

Then, some evidence appeared in an unlikely place...in freshly fallen snow.  Footprints.  And not wee birdie prints...but rather large, imposing prints.  Hmmm...who could be sneaking around, knocking the feeders about and emptying them all too quickly?  You guessed it.  I had no condemning evidence a while back, then ta-da!  deer footprints.  

So, what to do?  Well, in a wintry world of little forage and very cold evenings, I really can't blame the deer for wanting to muscle in on the feeders and grab some seed.  Yet, if the deer become too dependent on forage provided by us humans, they grow less inclined to forage in the wild and teach their young, thereby endangering their survival.  Do I keep refilling the feeders and thereby keep refilling the deers' stomachs?  Or do I allow the birds to pick up what is on the ground and let the feeders stay empty for awhile?

We live in a world where we see Satan at work.  We see his footprints in the snow, coming in and taking away what is not his:  our health, our loved ones, our peace of mind.  Sometimes the snow melts and although we can't see his footprints, he leaves condemning evidence of his work behind:  cold hearts made so by the deceitfulness of sin, anger and heartache, violence and loss.  We rail against his emptying of the feeders, yet sadly, because our world doesn't take Satan seriously, many people are shocked when terrible things happen.  We are saddened too, but not surprised.  Having tried to defy God, and losing his place in heaven, Satan works on His children, as a way to take revenge on God.  Most parents would rather have someone hurt them than their children, if evil people are willing to make such bargains.  If you hurt me, the pain is temporary; hurt my children and the pain will go on forever.

God chose to have His Son tortured by Satan's minions--He loves us that much.  Because Jesus is God in the flesh, God was, in effect, allowing Himself to be killed for sin rather than us.  God is the ultimate Parent, the One Who never leaves nor forsakes us, even if Satan is dishing out as much pain and suffering as he can muster.

Isn't it interesting that Jesus is the "Lion of Judah" (Revelation 5:5) and Satan is also compared to a lion: "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).  Sometimes we are so angered and devastated by Satan's work in the world, we lose sight of God's more powerful work in the world.  We see sin and destruction, but neglect to see how lovingly God is working on the hearts of people to draw them to Himself:  "But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself." (John 12:32).  Notice where His love will draw us?  At His death on the cross.  That is the ultimate judgment against Satan:  death itself has been overwhelmed by the love of His Son.  So, how do we respond to what is going on in the world?  Look at this picture:

I see a lion's paw:  a powerful cloud, rolling across the mountains, with thunder, lightning and hail in its wake.  I can be afraid, and see this as evil afoot or I can see the Lion of Judah's paw, firmly over the earth, in majesty and power and still in control of His wayward planet.  Yes, evil is everywhere, and never would I ascribe the evil to God, but it's our point of view that needs adjusting every now and then.  

Remember this verse:  "You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them [those who deny Jesus and do evil], because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." (1 John 4:3).  Even if you see Satan's footprints in the snow, look a little closer:  Jesus' footprints are right behind them.

Prayer:  Dearest Father:  Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by personal sadness or by what I see going on in the world, that I forget the majesty of Who You are.  Satan would love me to shrink You down to the size of my problem.  But please remind me of the greater horizons of Your Love and how, despite the evil that stalks the land, You are still mighty and You still reign.  In the Son Who made such love possible, amen.