Category Archives: Hearing from God

Radiating Love

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Once we flip our month-to-month calendars from January to February, thoughts of red hearts and Valentines liven up the winter doldrums. But when I returned from England recently, I was greeted by the lights of our Christmas tree. I hadn’t had time to dismantle it before racing off in mid-January, though I did box up everything but the tree. It had still looked and smelled fresh, and I knew its lights would be a warm welcome home.

The morning after getting back, I studied the still-pretty tree in the pre-dawn darkness of an early jet lagged morning. What a shame to take it down. And then I thought of February… and hearts. Although I have a plastic bin filled with red decorations, I hadn’t opened it since we’d lived in the Chicago area, 3 Valentine Days back. And suddenly I wanted to take a look.

When I opened the bin, its red hearts seemed to say, “Unpack us, and spread the love!” Right on top was a bag of red heart-shaped light-toppers meant to snap onto a string of tiny white lights. I began pulling Christmas ornaments from the tree, leaving the wintery ones: snowflakes, snowmen, mini-sleds, icicles, and anything with a heart on it. When I popped the red toppers onto the tiny white lights, and voila! We had a Valentine tree!

As the bin emptied, the cottage took on a red-heart glow. I reminisced about the fun of decorating at our old house with the children and felt like a kid again myself. When I’d finished, “love” radiated from every room.

God enjoys decorating, too, and after Christmas and Easter, Valentines Day surely must be his next favorite. He’s placed heart-shaped decorations throughout his Word so as we read it, we’ll feel his love radiating from every page. To quote, “God’s love is unfailing; his love reaches to the heavens; he directs his love to us; he delivers those he loves; he is forgiving and abounding in love; his love stands firm forever; he crowns us with love and compassion; God is love.”

In hundreds of love-expressions, God lets us know what he thinks of us. When I hear people say they aren’t interested in a relationship with this God, I’m astounded. Why would anyone turn from such potent love? Instead we often substitute conditional, full-of-holes human love that disappoints and devastates.

Only God’s love can perfectly fill the love-need within each of us. He knows us completely but loves us still, no one individual more than another. As a matter of fact, he loves us even as much as he loves his own Son, proving it by surrendering Jesus to death for our sakes.

The hearts scattered about my house are rinky-dink compared to the true love of God, but they’re a reminder that he loved me before I even knew him. And now that I know him, I have the immense privilege of loving him back.

“We love him, because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)

DO NOT ENTER

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All of us have turned down a one way street the wrong way and abruptly become aware of it when oncoming cars appeared, heading straight for us. Though none of us intend to go the wrong way, disaster can result from just a few seconds of ignoring the signs.

Yesterday, while maneuvering out of the airport parking garage and chatting with Linnea, I made a serious wrong-way mistake. As is true of many parking garages, a corkscrew ramp connected the different floors, and we entered one of them without paying attention.

As we went round and round I said, “I’m not sure why we’re going up,” but in an instant I found out: we were upping the down ramp.

When another car came flying around the blind curve unaware we were rising to meet him, we nearly made impact. “Mom!” Linnea shouted, as we both swerved and stopped short.

The other driver was gracious, rolling down his window and saying, “I have no idea how you got here, but you’re going the wrong way.”

Meanwhile, other drivers were careening down the ramp toward us, and our crisis continued. “Mom! Turn around!” Linnea said, fear in her voice.

As we inched back and forth in an effort to quickly right our wrong, I repeatedly sounded the horn to warn oncoming traffic, and 4 cars screeched to a halt to let us finish our 180. Finally arriving at the base of the corkscrew, the place we wrongly entered, I said, “The sign above will say ‘exit,’ I just know it.”

Linnea looked back as we came off the ramp: “It says DO NOT ENTER!”

I’ve often wished God would plant directional signs along life’s path so I’d know exactly what to do and which way to go. But yesterday proved that even if he did, and even if he used large block letters on a yellow background, I might still miss his warnings.

Actually God has been holding up signs in front of me for 6 decades. His collection of them is called the Bible, and he’s got a directional for every situation, many of them cautions I ought to heed. Although DO NOT ENTER isn’t one of his top 10, he does have quite a few DO-NOT’s. And just like on the corkscrew ramp, ignoring them is always dangerous. That’s the reason for his DO NOT’s in the first place. What he means is, “DO NOT get yourself in a mess you’ll regret later by ignoring my warnings,” a good reason to stay focused on his signs.

I think I understand the layout of the airport parking garage now, but just to be sure, I think next time I’ll let someone else drive.

“We must pay the most careful attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.” (Hebrews 2:1)

Off and On

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A nightlight is a small thing with a big perk. Its tiny beam of light in an otherwise dark space can calm a fearful child or guide stumbling footsteps. One of my many inexpensive nightlights has a small electric eye on its front that acts as a timer. When the sun goes down and light is needed, the nightlight flicks itself on. If someone enters the room and switches on a lamp, the nightlight turns itself off.

Once in a while, as dusk slowly darkens the room, the tiny bulb in the nightlight isn’t sure if it should be off or on. It wavers back and forth, flickering on-off-on-off as if it’s waiting for the room to make up its mind. “Are you light or dark? Do you need me or not?”

During these winter days of shortened daylight, my faithful little nightlight turns on earlier and earlier as the nights lengthen. You might say greater darkness brings more light. That can also be said about spiritual darkness and light.

As a new widow, I remember the sadness of increasing winter darkness coming at the same time as my night of mourning. I was needy for even a faint bit of light on the miserable situation, but as it is for most new widows, everything just seemed to get darker.

But that ended up being a good thing. Just like my little nightlight produces steady light as soon as everything is black, God responded with strong light when my gloom seemed darkest. He showed his influence in many small ways during those early days without Nate, reminding me again and again that he was watching me and would light my path hour to hour, day to day, as needed.

The Lord also flickers about within our minds, waiting for us to recognize how “in the dark” we can be in our thinking, hoping we’ll crave the light of his wisdom. When we say, “Please illuminate this or that problem with your truth, Lord,” he stops flickering and beams brightly, shining new insights into us.

The only time he lets us continue stumbling in the dark is when we insist on finding our way without him. If we say, “I can do this on my own, Lord,” it’s the same as if the bulb in my nightlight has blown. Without God’s light on our paths or my nightlight’s glow in the room, we’re left faltering and maybe falling. Without any power, no light will come. But calling out to God for his enlightenment is like putting a fresh bulb into a nightlight. The path to power reconnects, and new light comes.

And while I’m thinking about it, I’m going to check for a replacement nightlight bulb… just in case.

“You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.” (Psalm 18:28)