Category Archives: God’s plans for us

Pour on the Power

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Back in the 1980’s, Sandi Patty had a musical hit called “Pour on the Power.” The kids and I often had the cassette version playing in our mini-van as we carpooled and ran errands, and I especially loved this part of the song:

You may think you’re at a wall
But it’s just a door, that’s all
‘Cause you ain’t seen nothin’
Till you pour on the power.

She was singing about the power of Christ, but this weekend we came to a wall of powerlessness of another sort: an electrical outage. Very late Thursday night (i.e. the wee small hours of Friday morning) the house went dark during a wild windstorm when several trees fell across nearby power lines.

As the house gradually cooled off, we headed for our down comforters, confident the power would be turned on as we slept. But when morning came, electricity didn’t, so we scooted our chairs closer to the fireplace and warmed day-old coffee in an old sauce pan, laughing about the inconvenience.  When our next door neighbor Bob arrived with an armload of firewood, it was better than Santa Claus.

By evening, however, when the refrigerator’s contents had gotten warm and the hot water cold, none of it was fun anymore. Our youngsters missed their bedtime bath routine, and we worried that 8 week old Emerald, who already had the sniffles, would become cold overnight.

Much of the world has figured out how to live with difficult conditions, but we haven’t, relying on well-powered electrical lines that have made us grow soft in the process. A power outage is cause for complaining, and I even found myself angry at the electric stove/oven because it wasn’t gas-powered.

But as Sandy Patti sang, when we feel we’ve come to a dead-end, we should watch for a surge of God’s power. He’ll always provide that, as well as ideas on how to move forward, despite the dead-end we think we see. He’ll also faithfully match his power-to-endure with our need for it.

As God orchestrates tests for us (some small, some big) he says, “Let’s see if you can apply what you’ve learned about Me and My promises in this situation. Will you believe Me? Will you take advantage of the divine power I’m offering to share with you?”

Our God is practical. He doesn’t expect us to love miserable circumstances, but he does hope we’ll respond to the challenges he sends, even the small ones like power outages, with open minds and cheerful hearts. His desire is that we rely on his power instead of our own to get through everything, no matter what it is.

As for our power outage, I’m not sure if it was the power company or the power of God that turned it back on, but 24 hours after we’d gone dark, someone “poured on the pour” and light (and heat) flooded our home.  It was hallelujah’s all around, and however it happened, we were grateful.

“The Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power.” (1 Corinthians 4:20)

Fines Appropriate to the Crimes

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Yesterday we were reminded of how God views whining, complaining, and murmuring: all negative. Each of us has had experience with whiners, whether it’s our children, their friends, our friends, or ourselves. Though we discipline youngsters for incessant whining, we rarely abstain ourselves. After all, everybody has a right to vent, don’t they?

God says, “No.”

Sadly, his standard is the opposite of our natural inclinations. To comply with biblical instructions, we have to make a deliberate effort to stop old habits and think in new ways. Just like breaking any bad habit, the tools we need to succeed are fortitude and optimism.

But if that sounds too hard, we do have another choice: to willfully continue whining and complaining, knowing God will discipline us for it. It’s a sure thing he won’t ignore something he knows is bad for us, something that goes contrary to his wisdom. I can almost hear him say, “It’s for your own good, my child,” as he brings down his heavy hand. But if that doesn’t sound appealing, there’s still one other option.

When Nate and I were raising our 7 children, we were no strangers to murmuring, particularly at the dinner table.

  • From a 4 year old: “Why do you make us eat peas? I hate ’em.”
  • From a 9 year old: “Why can’t we eat with the TV on like normal families do?”
  • From a 13 year old: “Why can’t I eat in my room like my friends do?”
  • From a 16 year old: “Why do you torture us with family dinners?”

Nate used to say, “For the most part, we don’t drink alcohol, but somehow we end up with whine at every meal.”

Tired of hearing it, he finally came up with something he called the “Complainer Can.” He composed a short explanation and taped it to the outside of an empty hot chocolate container:

  • If you gripe and yell when there isn’t any, you owe me a penny.
  • If you scream and whine and further repine, you owe me a dime.
  • But if you yip and holler, put in a dollar!

Since the children received allowances (1/4th of their age), he knew they “had money” and insisted they pay fines appropriate to their crimes. This helped our dinnertime atmosphere for quite some time, since the kids spent less time complaining and more time trying to catch someone else whining so they’d have to pay a price for it. Of course inflation would have upped those fines quite a bit by now: a penny would be a dollar, a dime would be ten, and a dollar, $100.

So, there are 3 ways to handle whining: self-discipline, no self-discipline, and monetary discipline. The first one starts with difficulty but ends well. The second starts effortlessly but ends in stress.  And the last?  Maybe  if we put those inflated fines into the weekly offering basket instead of The Complainer Can, it would be the most effective approach of all.

“Set an example for the believers… in speech.” (1 Timothy 4:12)

Mourning in the Morning

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This morning’s church service starred 25 youngsters who sang a story about the Christmas Star of Bethlehem. They were adorable dressed in Sunday finery that was enhanced with angel wings, sheep bonnets, and shepherd’s- wear.

But before their procession down the aisle to the sanctuary stage, Pastor Kyle took the mic and focused our attention on the 26 people who died in Friday’s elementary school shooting, most of them young children the same ages as those we were about to see perform in church.

Kyle did a masterful job of balancing intense grief with Christmas joy, telling us that God hates evil and knows how each Connecticut family feels, since he witnessed the merciless killing of his own Son. We were reminded that his plans include making all things right, in the end. In other words, we don’t have to grieve without hope that justice will be done. Meanwhile, we’re to turn our conversations and our questions into prayer, which is what we did next.

Twenty-six members of the congregation held 26 pieces of paper on which the names and ages of those slain were written, and during the pastor’s prayer for their families, each name and age was read aloud. Emotional sniffles could be heard amongst us, and thoughts of 26 families planning funerals today brought a mix of nausea and grief.

But Linda, our pianist, soothed us all by adding the comforting music of Braham’s Lullaby to her offertory, reminding us of the eternal, impenetrable safety of God’s arms.

Later, while waiting for lunch at a restaurant table for 17, my brother-in-law Bervin helped put things into perspective in a prayer. He made a request for those 26 heartbroken families by asking God to pull their thoughts toward Him. His important prayer was that the momentous losses of their loved ones would cause them to turn their lives over to the Lord of love and eternal security.

And that’s really the bottom line, not just for those involved in the shootings but for all of us, even the children in our church musical this morning. No matter what happens here on earth, especially in terms of bodily harm, it’s important to look to the condition of our souls, because it’s that part of us that can live forever where morning will never include mourning.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

(Horatio Gates Spafford, 1873)

“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope…. We will be with the Lord forever.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13,17)