March 6th, 2011
By Sandra Byrd
Londoners, who have a delightful subway system called The London Underground, aka the Tube, have an equally delightful saying to warn riders about the potential danger of the space between the train and the platform: Mind The Gap. This gap can be a few inches or up to a foot, depending upon the particulars of the Tube station and the train, but can cause the unwary to stumble. The phrase is so catchy that it has now become a part of the common language, used to reference any space that warrants attention, for example, budgetary deficiencies.
I, like everyone else, have some gaps in my life that need minding. They are sometimes small and other times intimidating, but they all require attention and provoke a genuine spike of adrenaline. Yesterday I had lunch with a wise friend and told her that, in this particular season of my life, I was struggling with deep trust in God in places where I could not foresee an outcome. As we talked, it became impressed upon me that where I struggled was the “gap” between a need I knew I had and my complete inability to meet that need. I can do nothing in and of my own power to bridge those gaps. They are completely out of my control and it’s there, then, that I must learn to trust God.
God does not tell us we can do all things through discipline, effort, wikipedia, and human endeavor! Instead, He says we can do all things through Him. I told Him I had fear of someone harming me or my family; he reassured me that if someone digs a pit they will fall into it and that if a person rolled a stone toward us it will roll back upon them (Proverbs 26). I shared our immediate financial concerns; He reminded me that He has promised to provide for all my needs (Philippians 4). I told Him I was working hard and was growing tired; He reminded me that He has provided a way for me to remain energized, if I take Him up on it (Isaiah 41). I shared my hopes and fears for the sales of my books; He reminded me that he delights in blessing those who follow Him and that nothing done was unnoticed nor in vain (Deuteronomy 28, 1 Corinthians 15).
It’s not that the answers are not there, it’s that I have to believe them, not wasting time in worry but choosing to have faith in the certain knowledge that Someone is minding the gap, and therefore I need not. That’s the only way to learn to deeply trust.
Where are your gaps?
June 30th, 2010
I’m so very proud to share a devotional by my daughter, Elizabeth, who is both lovely and wise beyond her years.
By Elizabeth Byrd
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.
June 1st, 2010
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 …
By Sandra Byrd
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.
September 7th, 2008
By Sandra Byrd
Last month my husband and I joined a gym. After three years of writing about French pastries it was time to work off the brioche.
Most of the time our work schedules are such that we work out at different times, always checking in with one another to make sure that we actually broke a sweat that day. Some days we get to work out together.
Our work out plan consists of both aerobic and weight training, and for aerobic, we’ve been doing the kind-to-your-knees elliptical. The ellipticals are lined up in a long row, and we choose two next to each other. He’s usually watching the TV on the machine and I’m usually listening to something pumping on the iPod so we don’t actually talk. But I noticed something.
If I slow down to fix my music or grab a towel, he’ll automatically slow his stride to keep in time with me. And if he speeds up, trying to make a caloric breakpoint, I would find myself pushing a little hard to meet his stride. Even if we weren’t directly looking at one another we’d adjust to keep in perfect rhythm.
Isn’t that a picture of what we’re aiming for in marriage? Sometimes I am tired of life, of the struggles and the pain and the worries, and my man slows down his pace long enough to listen to me and to encourage me for the continuing road ahead. Sometimes he’s racing toward something, pushing us to a goal that seems out of reach – but really isn’t – and I speed up to make sure we both grasp it at the same time. Whatever we do, we are one, and we need to always work in tandem if our marriages are to be healthy and in good shape.
For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. ‘So they are no longer two, but one. Mark 10:7-8
June 25th, 2008
By Sandra Byrd
No, I’m not describing some of the people you love to avoid at church! I’m talking eatin’ crabs.
I love the show Deadliest Catch on Discovery Channel. It follows the lives of Alaskan crab fisherman as they battle the Bearing Sea while trying to trap pots of gold. Literally. A new deckhand can make $80,000 – $100,000 in one season. I love to eat crab (my kids say that makes me a cannibal!) so I started thinking about crabs.
In order to grow, they have to shed their exoskelaton, called molting, in order to grow a new one. But for the 48 hours or so after shedding one shell and growing a new one they are extremely vulnerable to predators. They need to take refuge, if they can, in a safe place.
That’s kind of like us, isn’t it? Spiritually, emotionally, if we don’t grow we become trapped in shells too small for what we were intended to be. But the step forward – shedding the past and leaping into the future – leaves us vulnerable for a little while. Don’t be afraid to grow as a person or as a believer. Just take refuge in a safe place (good friends, the Word, supportive family) till your new shell grows.
May we all be growing as crabs for the King! Just not to one another…
