That nagging voice inside your head

Today’s Reading: John 16:8-11 (NIV)

9 [Jesus said,] “When He comes, He will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment; 9 in regard to sin, because men do not believe in me; 10 in regard to righteousness, because I am going to the Father, where you can see me no longer; 11 and in regard to judgment, because the prince of this world now stands condemned.”

Good morning!

Have you ever had second doubts, wondering if you are about to make a mistake you will regret the rest of your life? Have you ever tried to turn off that nagging voice inside your head but it won’t go away? The things my mother told me when I was a little girl still bounce around inside my noggin like a noisy reverb that occurs when an amplifier and microphone are way too close to each other. If I close my eyes, I can still hear her say, “Debbie, go make your bed; brush your teeth and pick up your things! Put your toys away because it is time to say your prayers.” Setting personal time aside to enter into His presence in prayer is one of the voices that stays with me even today. It’s as if I can hear my mother saying these words every morning when I wake up. Mothers do have a way with words! We should pick and choose our words wisely. I pray that this one gift I will leave my children as their inheritance, is hearing my nagging little voice reverberating inside their heads every day for the rest of their lives.

I can get sloppy sometimes with the clutter in my house, and with the clutter in my spirit. God knew I would need a determined mother who continually kept on me to do the right thing; to walk the narrow path, and to make Jesus Christ first and foremost in my life. If there is anything good in me at all, it is because my mother never gave up on me. With that said, I must confess that I have learned how to turn that little voice of hers off from time to time. I do have a selfishness switch and it works really well, until the regret switch, like a back up generator, kicks on at the most inopportune moments of my life, illuminating the things that I’ve left undone. Like the broken toys laying in pieces on the floor, this voice truly hurts my heart, because it exposes my sin for what it is.

As Jesus prepared to leave His earthly life and return to the Father victorious over sin and death forever, He promised to leave His people with voice of all voices. What a gift this is! The Holy Spirit, is a nagging voice inside your head! It convicts you of the times you have turned away from faith; the moments when you knew better and acted out anyway in selfish ambition and personal gain. The Holy Spirit is like a nagging voice, reminding you to stop your personal pursuits and make the Lord Jesus Christ first in your life. It ignites an unquenchable, holy fire that propels us to clean up the messes we’ve made and begin to seek the intimate relationship with the Savior, who is the giver of all life. The Holy Spirit is that nagging voice inside your head and it will not ever let you go, no matter how far you go.

You know the voice I’m talking about. Is it speaking to you today? Be thankful when you hear it. Jesus Christ is reaching out to you in the power and presence of the Holy Spirit, urging you to put your toys away and come home to Him now. Won't you come out on the porch, and sit with your Savior a spell? It will do your heart good.

Grace and peace,

Deb Spaulding

Faith UMC - St. Charles, MO

www.songofdeborah.com

___________________________

© Copyright 2008, Deb Spaulding

All rights reserved

Articles may not be printed in any “for profit” publication without further permission by the author. Articles may be freely distributed via e-mail, reprinted in church bulletins or in other non-profit publications without further permission. Please keep this copyright and Web Site information intact with copied articles. Articles are sent originally to subscribers only. You may have received a forwarded or reprinted copy.

The gift

Today’s Reading: John 16:7 (NIV)

7 [Jesus said,] “But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you.”

Good morning!

Our four-year old granddaughter Emily was sick last weekend. To ill to go to the soccer game, we hung out together and watched movies in our pajamas. Emily curled up in my lap on the reclining sofa, with her feverish head resting on my left shoulder. I did not need a lap quilt that day, for Emily was toasty enough for both of us. She was clearly miserable, with a scratchy throat and chills, and I felt sorry for her. Emily turned away from the movie we were watching on television, looked up and said in her squeaky voice, “Nanny, you are my best girl. I’ll miss you when you go home to see Pa.” Whenever this little one greets me, one of the first things Emily says is how much she misses me. Four year olds have an uncanny ability to share their hearts. There I was, trying to comfort my granddaughter; yet, somehow, Emily managed to comfort me with a hug and a kind word.

Can you imagine what it might be like in the world today without the comfort that the Holy Spirit brings? Jesus knew how very much we would miss having Him here on earth, in the flesh. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t long to see my Savior face-to-face; to be able to reach up and touch His nail-scarred hands, to rest my head upon His shoulder, and know His eternal peace forever. If Jesus had not gone away, the Comforter would not have come. And, oh, what a Comforter we have in the Holy Spirit! Christ reveals Himself to us through the presence and power of the Spirit every moment of every day. He is our living Word, when there are no words to speak. The Spirit reminds us of the Way; He shelters us in our life storms. The Comforter blankets us in the warmth of the Father’s great love. We are never, ever alone, even when the Savior went home to be with His Pa.

I am praying Emily’s words this morning, “Lord Jesus, you are my best bud. I miss you now, but I know you are with the Father, and one day soon, I will see you again, face to face.” I am assured of Christ’s promise through the comfort of His sweet Holy Spirit. This is the gift Jesus left for you and me on the day He returned home.

Grace and peace,

Deb Spaulding

Faith UMC - St. Charles, MO

www.songofdeborah.com

___________________________

© Copyright 2008, Deb Spaulding

All rights reserved

Articles may not be printed in any “for profit” publication without further permission by the author. Articles may be freely distributed via e-mail, reprinted in church bulletins or in other non-profit publications without further permission. Please keep this copyright and Web Site information intact with copied articles. Articles are sent originally to subscribers only. You may have received a forwarded or reprinted copy.

One Word

Today’s Reading: John 16:5-6 (NIV)

5 [Jesus said,] “Now I am going to Him who sent me, yet none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ 6 Because I have said these things, you are filled with grief.”

Good morning!

If you’ve ever lost someone you love, then you probably understand the stunned silence of Jesus’ disciples that day, as He spoke these words. When grief grips us, it is hard to find the right thing to say to express our deep sadness. Their very best friend was preparing to die. He is their mentor, teacher, healer, prayer partner, and Savior. The disciples didn’t understand why Jesus had to leave, after only three short years together. Where was He was going and how would they ever find Him again? What would you say to someone you love, knowing they are slipping away from this world to the next, and there is nothing you can do to stop it from happening?

Every human heart understands the universal language of grief. On September 11, 2001, people around the world held hands and prayed for the people who were suffering in New York City. Thousands of lives were lost in this hateful act of terrorism. An outpouring of grief wrapped itself like a blanket, uniting people from different countries. We did not know each other, but we knew the pain of our common loss and despair, and that made us one. There were no words to say as we watched in horror, as death and destruction settled over the city in a blanket of ash. People were searching for their spouses, their children, their parents, hoping to find a miracle within the rubble. As the cleanup progressed, two structural support beams miraculously remained intact, even as the Twin Towers collapsed. Raised high above the city ruins, the cross that was pulled from the rubble of the World Trade Center still stands today.

As Christ prepared His heart to carry the sins of the world to Calvary, He understood the disciples’ grief. Jesus knew the cross would stand firm forever; that it would supernaturally bind the hearts and minds of the millions who would come, seeking His love, forgiveness and grace. On this day, there is only one Word to offer those who are looking for hope in the midst of their grief, and that Word is Jesus.

Grace and peace,

Deb Spaulding

Faith UMC - St. Charles, MO

www.songofdeborah.com

___________________________

© Copyright 2008, Deb Spaulding

All rights reserved

Articles may not be printed in any “for profit” publication without further permission by the author. Articles may be freely distributed via e-mail, reprinted in church bulletins or in other non-profit publications without further permission. Please keep this copyright and Web Site information intact with copied articles. Articles are sent originally to subscribers only. You may have received a forwarded or reprinted copy.

Gluten free wafers and saving grace

Today’s Reading: John 16:2-4 (NIV)

2 [Jesus said,] “They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, a time is coming when anyone who kills you will think he is offering a service to God. 3 They will do such things because they have not known the Father or me. 4 I have told you this, so that when the time comes you will remember that I warned you. I did not tell you this at first because I was with you.”

Good morning!

During yesterday’s prayer service, I knelt at the altar rail, holding a gluten-free wafer dipped in grape juice; it is the visible presence of Christ’s life, death and resurrection working in my life. Jesus lives and I know He lives, because He lives inside my heart. I kept thinking about that concrete altar right in front of me, mostly because of a sermon I had heard earlier about our long, lost friend, Ed. When Christ became the supreme sacrifice for humanity’s sin, we became His living witness to the world. His altar lives on in you and in me. We offer up our hearts to Jesus, for it is the only altar completely designed, purchased and redeemed by our heavenly Father, through the blood of His Son.

I placed the wafer in my mouth and began to chew. I will admit that the taste of a gluten-free wafer is unique. It kind of reminds me of chewing on a piece of cardboard. I baked communion bread many Saturdays in my kitchen in preparation for Sunday morning worship. If the loaves would rise up, the crust was guaranteed to be flaky and tender and the warm, sweet dough inside would be soft and a comfort food to those who would consume it. The hardened shell of a sugar-free, gluten-free wafer is not what I would describe as warm and comforting. There is no after taste inside its hardened shell. I could hear and feel the wafer crushing into tiny fragments between my teeth. That deafening sound reminds me of how Christ’s body was literally shredded for my sins. He laid down His perfectly sinless body for a perfectly stained life. He took on my sins so that I could live forever with Him. I wondered which hurt my Jesus worse - the flesh being ripped from his body, or bearing my sins up on the cross of guilt and shame? His sinless frame took on my sin and the sins of the world. Until that suspended moment in time, when Jesus willingly gave up His Spirit, sin separated Him from His sinless Father. Jesus understands the pain of separation anxiety more so than anyone else.

I kept chewing and staring at the altar before me, amazed by Christ’s love. I decided then and there, as Ed is my witness, my heart needs a major overhaul before it could possibly become the offering I would want to return to the Lord. Swallowing is the hardest part of communion for me. Sometimes I gag. When we swallow, it means we’re consuming what we’ve put in our mouth. That bitter wafer does not dissolve like a soft, sweet piece of communion bread. If it is not completely chewed, one can feel tiny fragments getting stuck between teeth and caught in the throat. How can I accept such a wonderful gift from my Lord? The personal pain that I’ve caused, and the complete, undeserved forgiveness I receive is certainly not a fair trade. In fact, there is nothing fair about it. Still, I swallow, grateful for the price that was paid on my behalf that day at Calvary.

If you had been the only human being on the face of the earth that ever sinned, Jesus would have laid down His life just for you. And that’s exactly what He did. He did this for you and me, for just a time like this. When you come to the altar to take communion, I’d like to recommend the gluten-free wafer. You will experience a whole new perspective on saving grace.

Grace and peace,

Deb Spaulding

Faith UMC - St. Charles, MO

www.songofdeborah.com

___________________________

© Copyright 2008, Deb Spaulding

All rights reserved

Articles may not be printed in any “for profit” publication without further permission by the author. Articles may be freely distributed via e-mail, reprinted in church bulletins or in other non-profit publications without further permission. Please keep this copyright and Web Site information intact with copied articles. Articles are sent originally to subscribers only. You may have received a forwarded or reprinted copy.