Matthew, the tax collector. 2023 Lenten Blog Post #2

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at his tax collector’s booth. “Follow me and be my disciple,” Jesus said to him. So Matthew got up and followed him.

Later, Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. (Matthew 9:9-10, New Living Translation)

Matthew, also known as Levi, may be one of the most well-known disciples. He stands out mostly because of his previous occupation.

Tax collectors, also known at publicans, were Jews who worked for the Romans collecting taxes for transportation of goods. The Romans looked down on them because they were Jewish and they looked down on all Jews. And their fellow Jews really didn’t like them because they were working for the Romans. Also, they were known for being corrupt, often charging a higher tax than required and keeping the extra money for themselves.

Confession time for Chris. When I was a kid, I had a huge problem with Matthew. Because – my mother was a tax collector. She was the treasurer for our township. Every year, just after Thanksgiving, she gathered us around the kitchen table to stuff those tax bills into envelopes. Then during the Christmas season, in addition to all of the holiday preparations, Mom had set hours where residents could come to our house to pay their taxes in person if they wanted to.

I know that my mom was honest, and I saw the paper trail so I knew she couldn’t collect any more money than she was supposed to. Oh, and every day when she totaled the money she took in, she went over it multiple times to make sure the numbers agreed. But in my child’s brain, I was so afraid that someone would think less of her because of this job.

But then Matthew taught me something else. Jesus accepted him, just like He accepted everyone. No person could have an occupation which would keep Jesus from loving them. And if you thought the people hated Matthew because of his job, they really hated Jesus because He hung out with lowlife, like tax collectors.

So, if you ever think that you aren’t good enough, that what ever is in your past or present would keep Jesus from accepting you and offering you eternal life, get that thought out of your head. Jesus loves us all and forgives us all. All we have to do is turn our lives over to Him.

Have you been chosen? 2023 Lenten blog post #1

“Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20, New Living Translation)

Today is Ash Wednesday, the day which marks the first day of Lent, which leads us to Good Friday and ultimately Easter. The six and a half weeks or forty-six days during which Christians are asked to reflect on our lives, repent of our sins, and remember that Jesus is our Savior.

Every year I try to write my blog posts during Lent around a central theme. Since Hubby and I just finished watching the first two seasons of The Chosen, I thought that might be a good place to start this year.

Before we watched it, I’d read a little about it, and so I should have known what it was about. But sometimes I’m kind of slow. I knew it was about Jesus’s disciples, but it took me several episodes to figure out that it meant that those disciples were The Chosen. At first I thought it meant that Jesus was The Chosen, chosen by God to redeem us. Like I say, I’m a little slow.

For a while, I’ve wanted to write about those twelve followers of Jesus Christ, the men He chose to walk beside Him, learn from Him, become commissioned to spread His word, and perform miracles. Why did He choose Peter, Matthew, John, and the rest?

But here’s a better question: why did He choose you? Or did he even choose you? And what are you doing about it?

Answered Prayer

And we are confident that he hears us whenever we ask for anything that pleases him. And since we know he hears us when we make our requests, we also know that he will give us what we ask for. (1 John 5:14-15, New Living Translation)

Over the last few years, I have been praying nightly more fervently than ever. Between everything going on throughout the world and within my personal life, I don’t know where to begin or where to end when I send up my prayers to God when I go to bed each night. Usually, I fall asleep before I’ve asked for half of what I want.  

I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you’ve received it, it will be yours. (Mark 11:24, New Living Translation)

And each day, as I’m assaulted by more bad news, or body aches, or whatever it might be, I wonder if God even listens to my prayers. I know that He answers them in His own time and own way and that He knows what’s best for me and everyone else. But, still, God, can’t You just, once in a while, send me a sign? Fix something that is broken in my life? Or that is messed up in the world?

I know that God doesn’t work that way. And I’m ashamed of myself when I have so little faith. But, still, God, maybe just one little miracle?

“Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8, New Living Translation)

Three weeks ago, just like that, He not only answered one of my most passionate prayers, He sent an outright miracle. It’s not mine to share here, but trust me, God has got this. And He will answer your prayers when you least expect it.

LORD, God, I can not thank You enough for answered prayer. There are no words that come close to saying how thankful I am that You opened this door. Amen. 

 

Getting Out There While We Can

This past week was once again unseasonably warm for us.

 It’s hard not to want to get outside and do what you can to take advantage of the weather. We still have the rest of February, as well as all of March and April to get through, and those are usually the snowiest months.

But as long as we can, we’ll get out and enjoy the warm temps and sunshine.

Sunday afternoon, my daughter and I took her pups for a walk along this section of the Wisconsin River, which we all know as Grandfather Falls. 

I’ve hiked this trail many times over the years, but I think this is the only time I trekked it in the winter.

A great place no matter time of year it is.

Is COVID Still Out There?

   Go, my people, enter your rooms and shut the doors behind you; hide yourselves for a little while until his wrath has passed by. (Isaiah 26:20, New International Version)

I woke up Tuesday morning with a sore throat. It mostly felt dry so I thought it was just from our bedroom’s humidifier acting up. By the end of the day, I was feeling more fatigued than usual and a little congested.

It hit me the next morning. At least I had Wednesday and Thursday off from work. And even though I woke up on Friday still coughing, aching and feverish, I thought I’d try making it to work, after, however, taking a COVID test.

When our nurse at work tested me, she said I sounded horrible (she wasn’t lying), and that I had to take the day off no matter what the test showed.

Which didn’t matter in the end, because I did come back positive for COVID.

I know? What? I have no idea where I got it from this time. I’m feeling fine today and get to leave quarantine tomorrow. But still, feeling like a leper makes a person feel like – emotional and mental crap on top of the already physical crap.

With COVID on my brain the last two days, I started reading through the journal I started writing three years ago in March of 2020 when the pandemic started treating us all like extras in an apocalyptic movie. While reading it, I came across the above Bible verse that I had discovered at the time.

It was a horrible couple of years. Man, reading what I wrote during that time, I sure sounded like I was losing my mind. I guess that’s why we journal, coz looking back our memories tell us something different.

Anyway, we did lock ourselves in our rooms, or at least our houses and apartments, for a solid two years. It wasn’t pretty, but we got through. And apparently, since that stupid virus is still roaming around out there, we still are fighting our way through it.  

LORD, we’ll never understand Your ways or why You let bad things happen to us and the world around us. Help us to remember, though, that no matter what is going on around us, You will always be watching over us. Amen.

Popping up in the morning

 

One morning earlier this week, I rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. 2:22 stared at me. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, and it still wasn’t time to get up? I felt like a piece of bread, stuck in the toaster, burning to a crisp and unable to escape. 

Hence, a bad night’s sleep is like a burnt piece of toast. You’re stuck in the toaster, turning black, maybe even smoking, unable to get comfortable, fighting the sheets and the blankets – aka, the heating coils. Yes, you’re hot. No, now you’re cold. There are noises in your head or are they real? Is that the smoke detector? And will that smell ever leave your nose? 

A good night’s sleep, however, is like that perfectly golden-brown piece of toast. You’ve been in bed – the toaster – for the exact right amount of time. You haven’t had to move because you are totally comfortable and the perfect temperature. The only sound is the steady, gentle hum of those heating coils. And the smell? Heavenly, soothing, like a memory from childhood. Mom in the kitchen buttering your breakfast, as she sips her beautifully brewed cup of coffee. 

You pop out of bed – or the toaster – warm and crisp on the outside, strong enough to do battle with the day, while warm and soft on the inside, happy to be alive.

Okay, or maybe not. However you slept last night, I wish you a wonderful day.

What was lost is found

“Or suppose a woman who has ten silver coins loses one of them—what does she do? She lights a lamp, sweeps her house, and looks carefully everywhere until she finds it. When she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together, and says to them, ‘I am so happy I found the coin I lost. Let us celebrate!’ In the same way, I tell you, the angels of God rejoice over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:8-10, Good News Translation)

I’ve had this cross for a long time. Hubby gave it to me many, many years ago, and over those many years, I’ve managed to lose it several times. I wear it 24/7, so I’ve broken the chain a few times and a few other times the cross has pulled free from its chain.

I spent last weekend at my daughter’s house. There was a crisis going on in the family, which I’m not at liberty to share, but even without any information, I’m sure you can understand that I was stressed.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I thought the clasp on the necklace felt different, but I never bothered to check for the cross. By Sunday morning, I finally realized that the cross was gone.

As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve lost this cross before and it has always turned up. And this time, by the time I noticed its absence, I didn’t think that sweeping the house and searching for it was worthwhile. We had thoroughly vacuumed my daughter’s house Saturday morning, so I knew it was possible that my cross was now in the trash.

Monday morning, I was still at her house, when one of her roommates set my cross on my laptop while I was typing something.  

“Is this yours? I found it on the bathroom floor,” he told me.

“Yes, it is,” I answered. Because, even though I was rejoicing in my heart, I remain stoic around others. “Thank you so much.”

LORD, thank You for everything You do for me. From the huge answers to prayers to the most minor acts of Your Grace. I don’t deserve to be called Your child, yet I am thankful beyond words that You have indeed saved me and hold me in Your loving arms. Amen.  

A Stop at the High Ground

             I feel like I’m way behind on blog posts this year already. It’s only the first of February, and I have no idea where 2023 has gone. And yet, I’m still blogging about places I went last fall.

            In October, after coming home from Kenya, I took off one weekend to visit my friend in Minnesota. I’ve been there a few times a year since she moved there, and I know I’ve traveled highway 10 through Neillsville before. I’ve seen the signs for this place but never took the time to stop. Until this time.

            From their website:

            The Highground Veterans Memorial Park, located four miles west of Neillsville, started as the Wisconsin Vietnam Veterans Memorial Project in 1984. It has grown to a 155-acre Park that includes a museum, a gift shop, pavilions, picnic areas and four miles of hiking trails. The private facility, which receives no ongoing federal or state funding, is supported by donations and grants. The Park is free to the public and open 24/7/365. Today, The Highground is the largest manned Veterans Park in the nation.

            I wish I would have spent more time there. I’ll definitely go back again, hopefully in the summer when the gardens are in bloom.

            A beautiful place with a beautiful purpose. Let us never forget the service our veterans gave our country.

All gave some, and some gave all. 

Click this link for more information.