Reading to our kids is something most moms love to do with little ones. But the fun doesn’t have to stop as they get older …

As little girls, most of us played house, corralled a friend to be the “husband” in a mock wedding ceremony and then, later, pretended that our dolls were our children. The dolls, of course, were almost all female and did exactly what we told them to do. Imagine our shock and surprise years later as grown-up women in real households with daughters who not only don’t do as we tell them but often seem to set out to do just the opposite!  These flesh and blood daughters are so much more valuable and precious to us than the dolls, but as they become tweens and teens we often grow apart. Shared activities is key to remaining close. Reading books together not only facilitates bonding time but allows you to peek into the hearts and minds of your own not-so-little-any-more girls.

Reading Together Allows You To Understand Your Daughter’s World

Often if you ask a privacy-prone teen or tween what she is feeling or thinking you’ll get a short, one word answer in return.  Tweens and teens are nearly as reluctant to give up their secrets as the grave! However, if you phrase the questions or discussions in terms of third party, neutral characters in books you’ll get a much more forthcoming response. How do you think she handled that? Does this seem like your school – in what ways? How would you rate her relationship with her family? What do you think about the friendship choices she’s making? Do kids at your school have these kinds of temptations? Do you find this book realistic? Each of these questions will give you more insight into your daughter

Reading Together Helps Your Daughter to Understand You

As mothers, it’s easy to forget that our daughters often view us as powerful and adult but may know little about us beyond our jobs, hobbies, and food preferences. Share some of the books you enjoy now, or enjoyed as a teen, with your daughter. Read one that she likes, and then read one that you liked.  When you discuss it, share something about your childhood, some appropriate vulnerabilities, such as your continuing need for good friends, just like she has, and about the hopes and dreams you had as a girl. Doing so will “humanize” you to your daughter. The more she knows you, the more she can love you. When she realizes that you understand where she is by sharing that you’ve been there, too, she’s more likely to open up.

Reading Together Allows Your To Have Fun

If you ask most kids what comprises the bulk of their family time, you might be shocked to find out that they respond, “chores” and “discipline.” In today’s hustle and bustle a lot of the time we spend together revolve around those two things, and both can be fraught with conflict.  Making time to share an enjoyable activity will change the nature of your one on one time with your daughter.  When you read a book together, make a weekly coffee date to discuss what you’ve read. Or duplicate something the book characters do. If the characters go to a new store to shop, do so with your daughter. If they visit the beach, make plans for a short day out.  You plan one outing, and then let her plan the next. Talk about the book on the way to or from the day out.  Offer to take away one of your daughter’s chores if she’ll spend the time reading the book you two have decided to read together. And then make time in your schedule to read, too.  There are no Sparks Notes short-cuts to building a good relationship.

Although we each had dolls, toys, and books we cherished when we were kids, nothing reaches the depth of affection and self-sacrifice that good parents feel and show toward their own children.  Pick up two copies of a good book today and plan to spend some quality time growing closer with your daughter, building more snuggles and fewer struggles into your days and years together.

I’m so very proud to share a devotional by my daughter, Elizabeth, who is both lovely and wise beyond her years.

Recently I was on a run through a forest on a rough trail when the path took me up a narrow, steep incline that was almost vertical. As I  ran, trying to keep up the pace, I knew that it was critical for my feet to fall in exactly the right places and for me to keep my footing or I would fall  down the incline and have to start all over again. My brother, who was running with me, was already waiting at the top of the hill laughing and urging me to keep running and kick up the pace.

As I focused, my mind made the connection between this challenge and my spirituality.

I began to think of that hill as my walk with God, and the ability to run up that hill as faith. Once I reached the top, I thought of a friend who was not in shape. If she were to try to run up that hill, she would injure herself or fall back down the hill. I then thought of my brother  who is in extremely good condition, and who had taken that hill at a much faster pace than I.  Then I thought about myself. It had taken me a moment to consider running the hill as opposed to stopping and hiking it, to make sure I could successfully make it to the top before I had decided to run it.

I evaluated the scenarios spiritually.  The friend who was not a believer would find it impossible to make it up that hill. She was not prepared and wouldn’t know how to successfully reach the top. She hadn’t learned how to get good footing and lean in all the right angles and so she would fall and be injured.

My brother would stand for the one with a closer relationship with God, his faith would be much greater than mine. He was sure of his footing and would be able to quickly get to the top and turn to encourage those behind him. He knew that he could make it and he knew what awaited him at the top.

As for me,  I was confident in my abilities, and faith, and knew that I could quickly run that hill with ease and think of it as fun. After a few moments however, I doubted and I thought that surely I would fall back down; there was no way I could keep my footing steady the whole way up. The mere fact that I doubted for even an instant, both in running and in my life with God, shocked me. I know my faith in Christ is strong but the realization that I still have split seconds of doubt was not a comfort until I remembered that if I only looked up, my brother would be at the top of the hill laughing and waving at me to hurry up, saying that it was doable and all I had to do was keep the pace.

It reminded me that we need to constantly develop our faith. One cannot relax for months on end and win a marathon on a whim, it takes constant training and a lifestyle that promotes success. In the same way, that spiritual hill is easily overcome  to the one who stays in the Bible, keeps people around them who are farther in their walk and constantly pushes to get to a higher level of faith, a closer relationship.  It also showed me how important it is that we help those who are not as far along on their walks as we are. Encouraging one another and guiding others along the way are simple things that make a notable difference.

Now each time I run that hill it becomes increasingly easy and I no longer think about it, I just place my feet in the correct spots and I know in a matter of moments I’ll be at the top. And when I turn to see another runner struggling to make it up, I am able to laugh and show them where to step.

So often I find myself asking for a removal of difficult situations and circumstances. But that’s where God teaches me to rely on Him …

We were a family in disarray, like a loosely held bunch of pickup sticks when the hand that has clasped them lets go. Our young daughter was seriously ill – again. Months before she’d been rushed to Children’s Hospital where, after 11 hours of constant asthma treatment, and a near miss admission to the ICU, her lungs finally broke open. Six months later here she was, down again, missing two more weeks of school as doctors searched their experiences and resources to help. We pleaded to God for an answer, for relief, for help. Help seemed long overdue in coming, if at all. God remained silent.

Our son, overlooked during the acute phases, was putting on a good face but his school work and attitude began to fray. My own work was pushed aside and began to pile menacingly at my desk. My husband had permanent ashen smudges under his eyes from many sleepless nights. Still, my daughter’s waxy complexion and complete lack of energy reminded us: she’s not well. We needed a break.

After two months, she seemed to turn a corner. Some kind friends had offered us the use of their beach front condo for a long weekend and we’d been planning on it for months. Well, wouldn’t you know, my daughter came down with a fever the day before we were supposed to go. We NEEDED this break. We wrestled with whether or not we should go. In the end, after prayer, my husband and I both felt that we should go, no matter what.

So we drove.

On the way down the coast, I prayed, Lord, I can step forward in faith here. I don’t NEED to hear from you, but I’d like to.

A few hours later we stopped for dinner and then continued our drive south. We were going a new way – one printed out from the Internet – a way we’d never been before because it was supposed to be safer, but perhaps a bit longer. After driving for some time I asked my husband, “Should we get a map and make sure we’re okay?” At this point, it was 9pm. He agreed, and we pulled into a dimly lit one-horse town at a highway-side Chevron.

My husband got out of the car and went into the gas station. Within seconds, two young people came flying out of the same station, crying and gripping one another’s hands. They ran toward a van parked in the side parking lot. I tried, from my own vehicle, to look into the windows of the gas station. I could see no one. No attendant, no customers, no husband! Minutes dragged by. I couldn’t leave my kids alone in the car and go look and see what was happening. We locked the doors. And then we prayed!

Suddenly, an ambulance screamed up. Then a fire truck. Emergency workers poured out and raced into the store. Through the window, now, I could see my husband standing, so I breathed easier. Next I saw other heads, a woman, clutching a baby to her chest, being ushered into the back of the ambulance. A minute or so later my husband emerged from the store and a young man in his early twenties pumped my husband’s hand before getting into his car and following the ambulance.

As my husband got into the car we all shouted, “What happened?”

While the car was still turned off, he recounted his tale. As soon as he’d walked into the store a woman held out her baby to him and said, “Can you save my baby?” She quickly told him that the baby hadn’t been breathing for a short time. No one at the gas station knew infant CPR and so the crisis had grown. My husband had been trained in all forms of CPR so he quickly answered, “Yes, I can help.” He knelt down, gently extended the baby’s neck, opened her mouth and began to treat her. At each moment he felt the Lord guiding him: when to breathe just a little, when to puff a bit heavier. Shortly thereafter he felt the baby’s feather breaths responding to his. By the time the ambulance arrived, the baby was crying. THIS time, a crying baby was a good sign.

The father later told my husband that the baby had had a seizure in their van on the way up from California, the first the baby had ever had or the parents had ever seen.

As we drove away, and it got quiet again, I felt the Lord speak to me. “There’s your answer,” He said to my heart. And I knew what He meant, as I continued to pray. In this world, there will always be sickness and sorrow and trouble and problems. That baby may have epilepsy, and a life time of management ahead of her.  We are not in heaven yet, and sickness steals upon us all, and sometimes dominates our lives for a time. But God has numbered that baby’s days, and not one of them will be snatched from her before His exactly appointed time. He made sure to get us there to keep her safe that night.

In the same way, my own daughter will have health issues to manage throughout her life, because we’re not in heaven yet. But I can rest easy, knowing that God alone has appointed her days, and He alone will make sure that she lives the full measure of them. If he cares so much for that little baby girl, I know he cares for my daughter, too. My daughter’s fever was gone the next day, and we had a wonderful time.

We never did get a map. But we found our way just fine.

Because it’s easier to ignore spiritual issues, God often uses physical symptoms to help me take a closer look at what’s happening inside. Insomnia forces me to examine what I’m not handing over to God. Tension headaches ask me to slow down and loosen my grip. My physical illness got my attention, so I decided I’d work on what lay beneath.

I’d developed a pattern of taking on too much. In order to (falsely) comfort my overly busy self, I ate the wrong things in the wrong quantities. I finally understood that my overfed but malnourished body was an outward reflection of an overfed but malnourished soul. While I had many activities that looked good on the outside and garnered praise, they ate up time I might have spent deepening my relationship with God.

I’d relegated my prayer life to rushed pleading in the midst of trouble; my relationship with God felt empty and silent, stagnant and struggling. My body displayed on the outside what was happening on the inside. In the process of healing one, could I heal both? It was time for me to take a serious assessment.

First, I looked at how I ate. I’d run to a warehouse store and stock up on high-quality processed foods that were easy to slap together—maximum bang for my time and buck. Lots of prepackaged items, lots of convenience, lots of microwave ding. Though my family dined together many nights a week, when we timed ourselves, we were astonished to be finished and rushing to the next activity in fewer than 15 minutes.

Sadly, that’s what my spiritual diet looked like too.

Instead of savoring and pacing my lessons, I’d wait till the night before to scan the Bible and fill in the blanks for my weekly Bible study. I was more concerned about showing up with filled blanks than in deeply understanding what the teacher, and the Word, might have in store if I’d spend the time to digest slowly and meditate. What was the “real” meal I needed to savor? In Matthew 4:4 Jesus reminds us, “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

That wasn’t how I wanted to handle physical or spiritual eating, so I had to make some changes.

Considering my blood-sugar profile and that I’d had gestational diabetes, I knew I had to minimize my refined carbs intake. I’d heard if you cut back on bread, after awhile you lose your taste for it. With a twinge of sorrow, I realized that abstaining from daily Bible reading had caused me to lose my taste for it. I’d put off spending time with Jesus and reading the Bible to the end of the day—after I’d gotten everything else done. Unfortunately, by then I was either too tired to learn, or I simply told the Lord that I needed time for “me,” certain he’d understand.

Like a husband who’s been ignored, God became distant. The apostle James urges, “Come near to God and he will come near to you” (4:8). I can testify that the opposite is also true. Lonely for our former intimacy, I realized that just as I needed to decrease the amount of refined carbs I put in my body, I needed to increase my time with Christ, the Bread of Life for my soul.

I spent 10 to 20 times the number of hours reading books or talking with friends as I did reading the Bible or talking with God. Most of the Bible studies I attended were based on supplemental books—valuable, but not direct, exegetical study. What I got tasted good and, to some level, nourished my soul. But it was predigested—it didn’t require my body, or my soul, to do the hard work. God designed our bodies to extract nutrition, phytochemicals, minerals, and other good things from raw food. Supplements are only supposed to supplement! Might our souls work that way too?

Next, I looked at what I ate. When I made a commitment to eat only healthy, natural foods, I weeded out much of the refined sugar in our diet. My daughter came to me one day, asking, “Where did you buy this orange?”

“Safeway,” I answered. “Why?”

“It’s so sweet,” she said.

The oranges weren’t really sweeter. They tasted that way because we’d removed everything from our diets that would give us a quick high—refined sugar and its diet dupes.

When my body and spirit are tuned only to recognize “sugar high” experiences, the natural sweetness and goodness of a quiet relationship between God and me goes unnoticed. Instead of demanding immediate (and positive) answers to prayer, great insights, or tangible blessings, I’m developing a taste for simple conversations, Bible reading that reaffirms what I’ve learned but doesn’t necessarily lead to great insight, and long-haul trust without instant answers.

A friend and I recently reminisced how when we were kids, dessert was atypical—a looked-forward-to experience. I realized I needed to stop expecting dessert every day. Once in a while, God gives me a spiritual brownie—an immediate answer to prayer, a financial windfall, or a situation immediately resolved. When he does, I relish the sweetness for its rarity.

Just as we use the healthy food pyramid to know the types of food to eat, we can use Scripture to guide what we ingest spiritually. The apostle Paul tells us, “Let the words of Christ, in all their richness, live in your hearts and make you wise. Use his words to teach and counsel each other. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to God with thankful hearts. And whatever you do or say, let it be as a representative of the Lord Jesus, all the while giving thanks through him to God the Father” (Colossians 3:16—17, NLT). This means that I spend regular time ingesting the message about Christ and let it fill my life. Sometimes I listen to the Bible or hymns or praise music on my iPod; sometimes I spend a few minutes reading in the morning or online over my lunch break, or I sing along to worshipful music.

As I continued these habits—hard to build, at first—I realized how much I missed them when I skipped a day. I’d reacquired my taste for God.

Finally, I realized it’s not just about eating; it’s about getting active. An article in the New York Times noted, “Fitness isn’t about working out at the gym or running a marathon … . Fitness is important for coping with life’s emergencies, big and small, whether it’s running to make an airport connection or fleeing a burning building.” Our motive shouldn’t be to look good, although that might be a pleasant side effect. We need to exercise for overall health and to prepare for unexpected but unavoidable calls upon our reserves.

Similarly, the spiritual muscles I’m building aren’t for flexing at Bible study, hammering my family, or pontificating with others. In addition to helping me live more healthfully day-to-day, they allow me to flee when tempted, endure when tested, and stand firm during suffering. Our family recently took an unexpected and harsh financial blow. A restored relationship with God allowed me to weather the storm with tears and faith—not a bag of Doritos. Taking care of my body and my spirit isn’t for vanity, it’s for health.

I’m allowing myself the kindness of slow but steady increase in health and spiritual growth. I used to be in the “Three pounds a week or I’m switching” diet plan and the “Read the Bible in 60 days” camp. I now understand that my body will release weight gradually and my spirit will mature slowly. That’s okay. I’m willing to take a “long obedience in the same direction,” as Eugene Peterson put it. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30, NASB).

As this transformation takes place, both physical and spiritual health fall into alignment. I don’t give myself quotas—with Bible study, with counting calories, or any other measurable results. I rely on progress in my health and the quality of my relationship with God. In her Bible study, Thin Within, Judy Halliday writes, “When we stumble and fall, we rely upon God’s amazing grace and the power of the Holy Spirit. He gently leads us back onto the path of his provision.”

My heart health extends more deeply than a clogged artery. God graciously allowed the physical pain to draw attention to my spiritual need, the heart that in the end, matters most.

Ideas to Help You Metabolize!
A Dramatic Walking Partner. I never liked listening to audio Bibles—they seemed cheesy or boring. My mind wandered and I could never remember what I’d just heard. Then I discovered the amazing Inspired by the Bible Experience. The cast of 80 African American actors brings Scripture to life in a remarkable way. You can hear Joseph’s smarmy teenage voice gloating to his brothers about his dreams, Judas Iscariot sounds like a hustler right out of Ocean’s Eleven, and Jesus’ teaching shakes my soul. Old and New Testament add up to 100+ hours of walking and listening. The time flies by.

Hot Lunch. In their best-selling book, You: On a Diet, Doctors Roisen and Oz state, “Sex and hunger are regulated through the brain chemical NPY. Some have observed that having healthy sex could help you control your food intake; by satisfying one appetite center, you seem to satisfy the other.” If you’re married, consider inviting your husband to meet you at home for “lunch” one day a week while your kids are in school. You’ll draw closer to your spouse and never miss the food.

Spread Sheets. I learned that the “spread” in my tummy indicated a laxness in other areas of my life. As I learned to stick faithfully within a food budget, I experienced better ability to stick within my financial and time budgets too. Disciplining one area reinforced growth in the others. Examine your “spending” in those three budgets—food, money, and time—to see if they may correlate. —SB

Originally published in Today’s Christian Woman.

A gifted young writer, David Bejamin, reminds us to recognize and celebrate one of the most important prophecies regarding our Lord …

The Passover Seder (the word “Seder” means “order”) is a celebration ordained by God to remember the deliverance of the Hebrew nation from slavery in Egypt. However, for a Messianic Jew like me, that is, a Jew who follows Jesus, this celebration takes on another meaning as well. For on this day we celebrate that not only did the Hebrews of old escape death but so do we.

Passover takes place on the 14^th day of the first month of the Jewish calendar which is called Nissan, usually coming around the end of March or the beginning of April.

If you are new to the Jewish understanding of Christianity, you probably do not know that all Jewish Holy Days, like Passover, are also prophetic. This one in particular bears a prophesy that has been in effect for the entire history of mankind; a Savior will rescue us from the curse of death brought on by sin.

Passover is the story of the spotless (signifying sinless) lamb slain to save all those who place its blood on the doorposts and lintels of their houses. The whole meaning of the celebration is summed up in its name. Passover, literally means “pass over” and so it is “the celebration of the passing over”. The enslaved Israelites in Egypt were told to swipe the blood of a lamb over and to the side posts of their door way. That way, the angel of death would “pass over” that house. The prophesy given by Passover is this: The saving of man from the judgment of God via the blood of a perfect sacrifice.

The fulfillment of this prophecy begins as Jesus enters Jerusalem to the praise of the people. At this time, during the traditional celebration of Passover, a spotless lamb would be brought into the temple and would have been inspected for blemishes for the next four days. Similarly, for the next four days Jesus is tested by the Pharisees and still none can find him at fault. He is spotless.

On the eve of Passover Jesus and the disciples celebrate the Holy Day just like any other law abiding Jews. Near the end of the Seder meal Jesus institutes the Communion declaring of the matzo and wine, “Do this in Remembrance of Me.”

That night Jesus is taken by the Pharisees. He endures torture, beatings, illegal Jewish trials and a Roman sentence before being led to Calvary. It is the ninth hour of the morning when Jesus is nailed to the cross. At this exact time in the traditional Passover celebration the spotless lamb is sacrificed in the temple. Not a bone of the lamb was to be broken, and none were, in either Jesus or the lamb. The prophecy is complete.

It is no mystery that John the Baptist said of Jesus, “Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.” Jesus was and is forever the Spotless Passover Lamb of God. This year, even if you are not from a Jewish background, I encourage you to search out a Messianic Seder. Your relationship with the Lord will be deepened as you relive the Lord’s last supper and understand the long history and fulfilled prophecy behind the sacrifice of the Lamb.

From my book Pièce de Résistance.

Gather together:

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 3/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 2 T vanilla
• 1 (3.5 ounce) package instant vanilla pudding mix
• 2 eggs
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 3 1/2 cups quick rolled oats
• 1 cup raisins  (optional)
• ½ cup chopped, toasted walnuts (optional)
• ¼ cup cinnamon coffee flavoring syrup

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper. In a large mixing bowl cream together butter, brown sugar, and white sugar until smooth. Blend in instant pudding, and then beat in eggs until the batter is light and fluffy. Combine flour, baking soda and baking powder; stir into the batter. Next, add oats and raisins and nuts if desired. Drop dough by spoonfuls onto cookie sheets. Bake for about 8 minutes, till just set but not yet firm, in the preheated oven. Take out of oven, let sit on pan for 1 minute before gently removing to cool on wire racks.

When partially cool, brush tops lightly with cinnamon coffee syrup. Serve.

These royal gardeners plant relatively nondescript bulbs that are nearly indistinguishable from one another except to those who specifically chose them for sowing. Galatians 6 tells us that we can sow to please the sinful nature or we can sow to please the Spirit. One chapter earlier Paul tells us exactly what the acts of the sinful nature are: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; enmity, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. Notice that he does not distinguish one as being more  – or less – serious than the others. Then he tells us what the fruit of the Spirit is: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. All of the latter will be present in the one who sows to the Spirit. They are fruit of the same tree.

God sometimes chooses to alter the course of the natural laws He created, but mostly, He lets the laws work as He designed them. If you drop a precious vase from a balcony it’s going to drop and crash. He does not adjust the law of gravity to save us from our foolishness. If we build on sand and not on rock, the waves will wash our homes away. Likewise, if we sow to the sinful nature He promises that we will reap destruction whereas if we sow to the Spirit we will reap eternal life.  Choose carefully and prayerfully. Our gardens will be on display both here and in the kingdom to come.

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Galatians 6:7

Last week I spent many days in chilly Denver, reconnecting with my close friend from college, catching up with a couple who has  loved and spiritually guided me for more than two decades, and enjoying writing friends, old and new. But the culmination of everything I learned and experienced occurred just after I’d spent several hours parked in a cramped plane on a busy tarmac.

The plane had some mechanical problems so we waited, and waited, and waited. Of course, I was sitting just ahead of Engine No. One, which had the problem, so I spent time vacillating between worry that the engine would blow mid-air no matter what mechanic signed off and trying to ignore the loud man behind me sharing unwelcome details of his weekend conquest. Finally, the pilot said we were ready to go but we had one more thing to do before taking off – we needed to be de-iced.

I’d never been in a plane while it was being de-iced. The pilot drove the lumbering jet to an off-tarmac area and wove in between several cherry pickers fitted with de-icing foam. They sprayed the plane down from fore to aft. Somehow, the tiniest, unseen film of ice left on the plane, on the wings, in particular, can cause the plane to crash as it’s trying to gain the lift required for flight.

Within minutes of being de-iced, we took off, disallowing the possibility of more ice before flight.

As we climbed toward our cruising altitude I thought about how I had just been “de-iced” at the conference.  Cold droplets of fatigue, fear, envy, and anxiety can harden over my heart and my mind in an unbelievably short period of time.  At the conference, a small handful of amazing speakers had shared how the Lord was working in their lives, how He’d loved them, rebuked them, encouraged them, and led them down runways they had never expected nor could they have anticipated. I’d spent time reading scripture and praying with friends. When it was time to return home, I’d been de-iced and was ready to head onto the new flight paths He had plotted in advance for me. But I’d been duly reminded. Spiritual ice builds up quickly and invisibly. The smallest film can have dire consequence. I need to stay in warm, constant communion with Him, His Word, and His people. He has freed me in unexpected and amazing ways; He has renewed my strength. I am soaring.

… but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

It’s Better to Give than to Receive
By Tonya Nash

One warm summer’s day, I stood outside watering my front yard. We hadn’t purchased a sprinkler yet, so I had to do it the old-fashioned way and use the water hose. It was so dry that it seemed like the grass was sucking up the water quicker than it would come out of the hose.

All of a sudden I heard a little voice say, “Hello!”

I turned around and saw a friendly-looking little boy who looked like he was about 8 years old. I didn’t answer right away because he’d slightly startled me as I’d been off in my own world.

“I’m going to my friend’s house,” he said. “I’m going to give him one of these!” He held up two packs of handi-snacks. “I don’t know if he likes these or not, but I’m going to share one with him.”

“That’s very nice of you,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

The little boy went on his way and I moved to the other side of the house. About 5 minutes later, the little boy came back.

With a very sad voice, he said, “He wasn’t home.”

“Well, maybe you can go back and see him later.”

“My mom will only let me go one time. I really wanted to share this handi-snack with him.” The boy hung his head.

He’s so sweet, I thought to myself. “You should get your friend’s phone number and call him so you can be sure he is home before you visit him,” I said.

“Okay!” He perked up. “See you later!”

This young boy really made an impression on me. He was kind and gentle and he desired to be a blessing to his friend. It made me wonder, When the last time was that I actually went out of my way to be a blessing to someone?

Our gift to others, no matter how small it seems to us, can make a person’s day. And when we bless others, they aren’t the only ones that receive the blessing. Make the effort. Go out of your way today to do something kind for someone else.

Luke 6:38 KJV – Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

Diamonds in the Sand
By Sarah Austin

If our generation today had a theme song, it would probably be “I Want to Know What Love Is,” by Foreigner. And if you don’t know who Foreigner is, you’re probably the generation to which I am referring. The media seems to be in love with love. We see it on the TV. We read about it in books. We listen to it on the radio. Everyone seems to be talking about it, and, at the same time, everyone wants to know what it is, exactly.

We look around our campuses, in the mall, on the street even, and we inevitably find – a couple. Holding hands perhaps. Laughing, talking, smiling – like they have the world stuck in the little space between their palms.

And we ask ourselves: Why don’t I have that? Why isn’t someone walking beside me and holding my hand?

With the empty space gaping beside us, we come to the conclusion that something must be wrong with us. Or, simply, that love does not exist at all, despite our culture’s obsession with it.

Let me say here that a conclusion based on an empty space is hardly grounded in reason. And to doggedly refute the existence of something that has such insurmountable evidence in its favor is hardly logical. “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God,’” (Psalms 14:1). And “God is love” (1 John 4:16).

Imagine a diamond in the sand. A person walks by and doesn’t pick up the diamond – he’s blinded by the sun and stumbles obliviously past the precious stone. Another person walks by and doesn’t pick up the diamond either; he’s particular in the way his diamonds are cut. Yet another person searches on hands and knees, but fails to recognize the diamond for what it is amongst all the other glittering shards.

Tell me – does the fact that no one picked up the diamond make it any less valuable? It is still a diamond, perfect in itself. And someday, perhaps, a person will pick it up off the sand. But that will not in any way increase its value. It is already as valuable as it ever will be – and that is valuable indeed.

We are all of us precious stones. Our value does not ebb and flow with the tide but remains anchored in the love of the One who matters most.

What do we say then of this empty space beside us? It is nothing but a space – room in which to move freely, to learn, to grow, and to blossom. And love? You want to know what love is? Ask Him. He can show you.

1 Corinthians 13