It’s been a whirlwind of renovations, life transitions for adult children, and holiday prep. Thankfully, I remembered to be grateful, just in thyme for Thanksgiving.
Last week, I talked about the minor pain of inconvenience, namely re-entry into my Realitytale after a fantasy vacation with my dream guy. Broken down cars and home renovations had me wishing for Tinkerbell to sprinkle fairy dust and take me back to the Magic Kingdom.
Can I just be real for a second?
Nothing specific stood out; I just felt like I was standing under flow of shame without an umbrella.
Jesus passed over the border to the region of Tyre and Sidon to escape the Pharisees’ ire. He entered a house, hoping no one would notice Him there, but His fame had spread throughout the land inhabited by people the Jews considered heathen.
“You are going to lead millions of people to the Promised Land after you free them from slavery. You’ll drive out all the people in the land flowing with milk and honey, and dwell there, away from the oppression of Pharaoh and the Egyptians.”
Can you imagine? Put yourself in Moses’ shoes. The world’s prominent leader of the time not only knows you personally, but he wants you dead.
As we celebrated Mother’s Day yesterday, I thought of Naomi, mother of Mahlon and Chilion in the book of Ruth.
With a pain of loss I can only imagine, she decided to travel from the enemy country she’d been living in, back to her homeland in Bethlehem, Israel. Beyond childbearing years, the widow Naomi had no hope of ever having children again.
Naomi spoke from a broken place in the Moab desert. “For the hand of the Lord has gone forth against me.”
This weekend I had the honor of speaking at a ladies’ brunch at church. As I prepared to share my testimony, I thought of two key things that have helped me to start living as a prized possession, rather than a scraggly orphan.
What keeps you from the communion table this Passover, friend?
If you’re like me, sometimes it’s shame. Even if we take the elements as they’re passed, we don’t feel like we’re really at the table. At best, we’re in the corner watching others break the bread and take the cup.