Scripture Truth

Leannahollis.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com. This blog post contains affiliate links, which means if you click on the link to make a purchase, I may make a small amount of money (usually a few cents) from your purchase. It will not increase the price you pay in any way. I’ve read the book of Isaiah every December for more than two decades. Despite my familiarity with the text, I’m still surprised by the power and the sharp-as-a-knife cut of the words.  In the opening pages of his book of prophecy, Isaiah related a divine vision in agonizing detail. The scenes he saw were deep, true and painful. He couldn’t hold back. He was compelled to tell everyone the future God showed him. We’re breaking God’s heart… (The Leanna paraphrase from Isaiah 1 is coming up, but you’ll want to read these verses for yourselves.) “Listen up, world,” Isaiah said. “We’re breaking God’s heart. He’s cared for us like sons and we don’t even know Him. We don’t get Him at all, so we’ve done exactly what He told us not to do, and it’s killing us. Yeah. Literally making us sick, just like He said it would. “Look what a mess we’ve made of our lives. Can’t you see what devastation we’ve caused in our world? Our land? We didn’t think we needed God, so we’ve thrown off His tender watch-care. We’re devastated without Him. If He hadn’t continued to give us the protection we didn’t want, we’d already be gone. “Sure. We’re still rich. We’re still giving big offerings, and we’re still going to church like we always did. Our heart’s not in it, though, and we know it, but we won’t admit it. We’re just doing religion because it’s what we’ve always done on the Sabbath.  This is not what God wants from us. He wants our hearts to change. Why not do what He says? Let’s wash our hands and our hearts and turn back to Him now.” Advent – A time to wait and prepare There’s a lot more, of course, but these words set the theme for Isaiah and the theme of the Advent season. It’s not merely a time of waiting. It’s a time of preparation.  More than six hundred years before Jesus’ birth, Isaiah called people to return to God and to prepare their hearts for the One to come. They needed time to get ready for Jesus, and we do, too.  As we begin our progress toward Christmas and our celebration of the birth of our Savior, we have time to get ready. Let’s use the coming days to examine our hearts and prepare them for our Savior.   Do we view God as a demanding tyrant or a loving Father? Are our acts of worship merely rote habit or the overflow of a grateful heart? Do we hide a heart full of sin behind the facade of religion or have we allowed God to strip away all the fake until only real faith and love remain? Is our heart ready for Jesus?  Is our heart ready for Jesus? If not, we have time. Over the next few weeks, we’ll prepare together. Today, let’s ask God to help us see our hearts the way He sees them and understand Him the way He most desires.  “Come now, and let us reason together,” says the Lord, “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be a white as snow, though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.” Isaiah 1:18 nasb Thanks for sharing your time with me today! I’ve glad you stopped by. If you enjoyed this content, follow me on Facebook, Twitter or Pinterest or sign up for the twice-monthly mailing list (below) to be notified about my future blog posts. Before you leave, would you mind taking a moment to pin to Pinterest and share on social media? It helps extend my digital reach in ways I can’t do myself. Thanks again! See you soon. Want to read more? Here are links to the most recent posts: On Being Beloved The Whining Season Giving Tuesday: Life on Mission Always Begin With Love If you’re looking  for an Advent devotional guide, consider this one: The Road to Bethlehem: An Advent Prayer and Devotional Guide It’s available in Kindle format ($0.99) and paperback ($6.00) (this is an affiliate link, so I may make a few cents if you make a purchase using the link, but it won’t increase your price in any way) Are you interested in helping with the upcoming Massive Packing Party? We’ll pack all the Christmas holiday food for food-insecure students, prepare their Christmas stockings, and pack at least 100 personal hygiene packs for those experiencing homelessness. Join us at the Global Outreach office on Thursday, December 13, at 5:30 pm. Soup provided. If you’d like to help with the homeless outreach supplies, here’s a link to the Homeless Shopping List on Amazon.

Live like you mean it. How many of us who claim to be Christians actually live according to the Bible’s instructions? Probably not as many of us as we think. Consider the teaching of John the Baptist. He emerged in first-century Israel at a time when religion, not faith, exerted immense control over the lives of the people. They received forgiveness of sin through an animal sacrifice. There was a specific order and a clear plan to their religion. Rules reigned. John emerged from the desert with an altogether different description of faith-life. Sacrifice was not enough, he told them. The life we were born to live begins with a repentant heart, not a list of rules. A changed heart is not optional.  It was much easier to merely give up an animal. Forgiveness? Reconciliation? Repentance? Much harder, but essential for getting right with God. It wasn’t a familiar idea, and his listeners asked John what they should do. What does this “bring forth fruits in keeping with repentance” look like? John’s answer was startling. “If you have two tunics, give one to the man who has none…”  An extra tunic was a precious thing in the first century. We’re accustomed to closets full of clothes. They were not. John didn’t ask them to give away unused leftovers. He asked them to give something that mattered. Why give away an extra tunic? Generosity is a theme throughout Scripture. We are to be as open-handed with others as God is with us. To receive from God we must have open hands and an open heart. When we cling so tightly to the stuff of this world, it’s not only harder to cling to our Lord, it’s harder to receive all He has for us. Extravagant giving requires that we look past our own life and recognize the needs around us.  It requires us to risk being uncomfortable as a result of our giving. Maybe more important, extravagant giving requires us to recognize Who is in charge and who is not. We are not the source of everything we have.  No matter how hard we work nor how much money we make, God is ultimately the One who provides. It’s all His, and when we share what He has given to us, we acknowledge His provision in a tangible way. We take our eyes off ourselves to focus them on others and on the Giver of all good gifts. John wanted his listeners to live their lives in a way that matched up with the new-found repentance they claimed to have. Live like you mean it. John gave good advice 2000 years ago. It’s still good advice for us today. How many tunics are you holding?  Today, live like you believe the faith you claim. Let go and give. Live like you mean it. And he would answer and say to them, “The man who has two tunics is to share with him who has none; and he who has food is to do likewise.” (Luke 3:11 NASB) What I’m reading: (NOTE: This section contains an affiliate link, which means I may make a few cents if you use the link to make a purchase. It doesn’t affect your price in any way.) I’m re-reading The Autobiography of George Muller. It’s one of the most life-changing books I’ve ever read. Other than the Bible, this book was the most instrumental in developing my prayer life. In the 1800’s Muller fed and housed more than 10,000 orphans. How? He sacrificed, prayed and believed. In response, God provided in one miraculous way after another. The faith of this one man changed a nation (or a large part of it).  The stories of God’s providence alone are worth the read. (I’m reading in paperback but it’s available in other formats.) Here’s a quote: “The Lord not only gives as much as is absolutely necessary for His work, but He gives abundantly.” p. 198 Your shares on social media help expand my digital reach in ways I can’t do for myself. When you pin on Pinterest, it helps even more! Here are two pinnable images: Thanks for your help!

The last time you experienced a trial, you probably asked the question we all ask at one time or another: Why does God allow trials?  We asked that same question ourselves recently and found a few answers worth sharing. Why does the trial last longer than we want? If we’re honest, trials are rarely over as soon as we hoped. Why? Because they generally serve a purpose. James 1:3 tells us trials produce endurance (or perseverance) and will, ultimately, perfect and complete a part of us which is not quite perfect. They teach us what we need to know if we’re willing to learn it. Nearly five months is a long time for a problem you expected to resolve in a matter of days. Initially, I dealt with the viral infection in my eye much like a bout of influenza: a few days of rest plus a full course of medication and back to my routine. Unfortunately, the viral infection was here to stay. After considerably more than three months, my viral eye infection is, by definition, a chronic problem. I don’t like knowing that, but it’s true. It’s time to adapt to the chronicity and “learn to live with it.” Though I’ve spoken those words to hundreds of patients over the years, I truly despise them, especially when they pertain to me. Why learn something when I’m suffering? There’s always a lesson to learn. We waste the trial, and we may prolong it if we fail to learn it. There’s something to learn in my trial, and I’ve spent a good bit of time considering the available lessons. Many people suggested I needed to  learn to “rest more.” In truth, mucking out a stall or working in the yard is restful to me, so I rest more than you might believe, but I’ve made an effort to get more physical rest. I don’t know if it’s helped me or not, but it hasn’t changed the eye problem. The most important lesson I learned (so far) in this recent trial is more reinforcement than new information: God wants my availability but He can handle putting things together without my help. I did a bit less and surrendered considerably more. Despite my lifelong propensity for “yes,” I said no a few times. It’s incredibly freeing to let God open doors, close them, and direct my path. He’s given enough vision for what needs to be done in that moment and enough energy for every task. There’s not enough computer time (eye-wise) for all I want to do, or all I think I need to do, but I have enough for the essentials. It’s not exactly a new way of doing things, but it is an easier way, and that’s a bonus. Why do trials have to change our lifestyle? Trials can, and often do, affect everything about our lives. From changes in physical and emotional health to jobs, income, family, community, and housing, trials have far-reaching, and often unwelcome implications. If we allow it to perfect and complete us, the trial will almost always leave us, and our lifestyle, different in some way. We live in a culture focused on comfort and immediate gratification. We want what we want and we want it when we want it. If we were content and comfortable in our “before,” our response to the change wrought by trial may be anger, bitterness, and resentment. We may kick against the barbs rather than surrender to the work of God. Why give thanks when you don’t feel grateful? James 1:2 suggests a different response to trial. JOY. Considering it all joy doesn’t happen by accident. It’s a choice we make. How do we find joy in the midst of hard times? I believe it begins with thanksgiving. It may be hard to find something about which you feel thankful, but giving thanks isn’t about feelings. It’s about obedience. When we give thanks in the midst of a trial, it changes our perception of the trial as well as our perception of the livestyle modifications required by our circumstances. They become less offensive and are eventually seen as acceptable if not welcome. If the “point” of the lifestyle change is to be more like Jesus (and it is), we should – eventually – recognize and embrace the benefit. What is there to be thankful about in my trial? There have been a few days when I would answer “nothing,” but that’s discouragement speaking. In truth, God has provided everything I need, including enough money to pay for unexpected medical bills and unbudgeted prescriptions – sometimes just in the nick of time. I gained more medical knowledge in an area that wasn’t my strong suit. The travel plans I canceled were replaced by other ministry opportunities. Many people stepped in to help when I couldn’t do what needed to be done. Because of the difference in lighting, I spend more time at home and less at the office now – a good thing for someone who works best from the comfort of the screened porch. Why spiritual warfare may, or may not, be a part of the trial… Some friends suggested the enemy was trying to steal my ministry. I don’t know if that’s accurate or not, but I know one thing for sure. The enemy seeks to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10) but I don’t plan to relinquish anything to him. The evil one tempts, but we have the choice to resist and flee or stay and surrender. I’ve slowed down in some areas, but I haven’t surrendered, and I don’t intend to do so. The ministry work I do doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to God. I enjoy sitting back a bit and watching God orchestrate the things I don’t think possible. My computer time is drastically limited right now, hence less blogging and online presence, but I haven’t stopped serving. In some ways, the work of ministry is more remarkable and exciting than ever before. Why

Those of us whose lives are insanely busy may wonder how to make room for God in our lives. When schedules are jam-packed, it’s often hard to find room for anything else, let alone God, as an early-morning encounter with a stubborn puppy taught me. Dawn was still thirty minutes away when I awakened and shuffled downstairs. Neither dog, asleep at the foot of my bed, stirred. I returned to my bedroom with a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of peanut butter toast in the other. I intended to crawl back into bed and eat breakfast while I read my Bible. In my absence, Mamie, my still-a-puppy Shih Tzu, awakened and moved into my spot, curled into a little fur-ball, and went back to sleep. When I returned, she looked up with one drowsy eye, lowered her head, and held her position. “Hey, let me in. That’s my place.” Mamie kept her head down and her eyes closed. She didn’t move — until she smelled the peanut butter. Her head went up, a tiny button of a nose pointed in my direction, and she sniffed. Eyes brightened. She loves peanut butter and expected I’d give her a pinch of toast. I stood at the edge of the bed and waited. She didn’t move. “Mamie, move over. I can’t get in the bed.” She sat up, grinned, and wiggled all over in anticipation of a bite, but she didn’t budge. Finally, I set down my plate and coffee, lifted Mamie to a better spot, and climbed into bed. “Gotta make room for me before you get a treat,” I told her. How to make room for God and His ways As I settled against the pillows, I realized an important fact. We need to make room for God, too, and we’re often as sluggishly resistant as Mamie. The problem, of course, is we prefer to keep the lives we love and invite God into them, like a welcome guest. We want Him to tag along with our routine. That’s not the way it works. If we think we can ease God into our way of doing things, we’re sadly mistaken. We don’t invite God to follow us. He invites us to follow Him. Our activities and priorities may (and probably will) change dramatically in order to go the direction He desires. Our ways are not His ways Left to ourselves, our ways are always more like the world than we want to believe. Even if we’re “church people” and do many good deeds, our hearts are not naturally inclined toward God. Jesus summed up the law and prophets in two simple commands: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Before we started to obey the first two commands, He added another. “Love one another as I have loved you.” Consider the love those three commands require. To make room for God in our lives, anything that hampers our ability to love in such a scandalous, sacrificial way must go. Arrogance and selfishness are incompatible with the outrageous love of God. So are prejudice and greed, covetousness and unforgiveness. How to make room for God? Let go of what’s incompatible with the love of God. If we want the life to which God calls us, we let go to gain. If we want to make room for God in our lives, we must let go of our old ways in order to gain the new way of love to which God calls us. We let go of our priorities, our desires, our pride, our schedules. Anything that keeps us from following must be replaced with God’s ways. If I had the life I thought I wanted, I’d have a full-time farm worker and all-new equipment to take care of everything on the farm; I’d direct and he’d do the work. My days would be spent having lunch with friends, entertaining, and traveling to fun places. I’d cook beautiful, exotic food, serve it with elegant china, silver, and crystal, take classes and learn new skills, spend lots of time with family, especially my son, and have “doctor money” without the “doctor headaches” of weekend call or malpractice insurance. No jet lag, intelligence/police, tight budgets, or thrift-shop clothing. God, in His infinite wisdom, didn’t give me the life I wanted. He gave me the life I needed. I don’t have servants; I am a servant. Mine isn’t a life of ease; it’s a life of obedience. My life isn’t filled with material riches, but it’s crowded with spiritual ones. When our will submits to His… When I finally understood how to make room for God in my life, I discovered the life He gave was so much better than the life I expected. The disciples said essentially the same thing. Peter gave up a lucrative fishing business and a nice family with a stone home a few steps away from the synagogue in Capernaum to be a traveling preacher. He was arrested multiple times because of the words he spoke and the miracles he performed. Peter happily traded the life he might’ve had for the one to which Christ called him and counted it worth it. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” 1 Peter 1:3-5 nasb Peter thanked God for His mercy in giving a living hope, an imperishable, undefiled, and certain inheritance, and a home in heaven — all through the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. The life in this world and the

During my recent eye difficulty, several people asked me what I’d learned during the trial. “Plenty” is the short answer, but it wasn’t easy to get there. I didn’t always want a lesson in the trial I simply wanted it to be over. Initially, I forgot there was a chance of blessing in trials., so I failed to look for it.  It was hard to keep going when I felt dizzy and exhausted. I kept one eye closed because of pain from the light, which made it difficult to write. When I was struggling, I didn’t always feel like joining my church family for worship. But I did it all – not as well, nor as often, nor with the same enthusiasm, but I didn’t quit. Why? Because of James 1. “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial.” (James 1:12) I kept going because I wanted the blessing of trials and the growth perseverance brings. It’s why we must all keep going in the midst of our trials. The opportunity in trials It was hard to see my blurred and dimmed vision as an opportunity for growth but, according to James, all trials are a chance to be refined and perfected. The question is whether we’ll seize the opportunity or let it go past without growth and maturation. Joseph, the favorite son of his father, Israel, is a great example of one who seized the opportunity in his trial, He didn’t start out that way, though. Joseph was a dreamer, and, in his dreams, he always had authority and power. Everyone in the family would one day bow down to him, he believed. His future was bright and beautiful. Unfortunately, Joseph had a problem or two. First, pride. Second, indiscretion. He liked the dreams in which his family bowed down to him and made the mistake of telling his brothers about his dreams. They were jealous already, but the dreams made them angrier than ever. Opportunity and blessing don’t always look like we expect. The brothers’ anger birthed a decision born of opportunity. The brothers threw Joseph in a pit, then sold him to traveling traders selling the Balm of Gilead. Soon, Joseph was a slave in Potiphar’s house. (Genesis 37:18-36) He was Potiphar’s property. Character revealed Being sold as a slave is a tragedy, but in the midst of tragedy, Joseph’s character was revealed. Trials and tribulations strip away our pretense and reveal what’s inside. James 1:2 says we should “count it all joy” when we encounter trials. The root word for trials means “piercings”. I believe the trials we encounter are designed to serve as “piercings” that reveal what’s on the inside and allow that which is unlike Jesus to drain away. The piercings of trials remove our facade and reveal the core of who we are. Will we seize the blessing in our trial, or waste it? The amazing part of Joseph’s story is that what appeared to be an opportunity and blessing for the brothers to rid themselves of their trial (the irritating little brother) became an opportunity for Joseph to reveal his character and, eventually, a blessing to his entire family. The brothers wasted their trial. Joseph seized his. Joseph responded to tragedy the way we all should. He was faithful to do the right thing, regardless of his circumstances. He didn’t waste time being angry or bitter. Joseph didn’t whine or complain. He faced his trial with the same steadfast work ethic he’d demonstrated when he tracked down his brothers for his father. Joseph did the job set before him with all his might, despite the circumstances, and we should, too. What is our response to trials? We cannot avoid the trials of life, but we don’t have to waste them. Both Joseph and his brothers faced trials and revealed their true character, and so will we. When trials come, let’s do what Joseph did. Use them to become the men and women God intended us to be. Six steps to overcome a trial Keep doing what we know is right, especially spending time in God’s Word. (Genesis 39:1-6) Run from temptation. (Genesis 39:7-12) Continue to seek God and live honorably. (Genesis 39:13-23) Avoid bitterness. (Genesis 45:1-4) Look for God’s purposes in the trial. (Genesis 45:5-7) Embrace the blessing on the other side with grace and humility. (Genesis 45:8-15) Trials are always an opportunity for growth and refinement. Let’s thank God for the trials that come our way and allow them to perfect us and make us more mature in our faith. Why waste a trial when we can allow them to make us better than we were before? (Genesis 39:1-23, 45:1-15)  “And as for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive.” Genesis 50:20 You might also enjoy: When the Hand of God Restored My Hope Seven Truths You Need to Thrive in Hard Times Here’s a pinnable image to use for Pinterest:

Those who’ve read my blog since it first began in September 2013 know I like to write about my daily experiences, especially if they’re funny and I can teach a little lesson from them. Lately, I have few stories worth sharing. Who wants to read about getting my cornea checked? Or worse – putting steroid drops in your eye? I don’t even want to do it, much less write about it. No-glaucoma gladness Every time I go to the ophthalmologist, they check me for glaucoma. I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate that test, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. I remember when the pressure gauge looked a lot like a tiny metal space ship coming in for a landing on your eye. When the legs approached to land on my cornea, my heart started pounding. I wanted to be an astronaut, not a landing zone. Once, when I was a good bit younger than I am now, I fainted in the chair just as the glaucoma-ship made a landing on my eye. There was a lot of excitement in the doctor’s office that day. It was a while before they checked my pressure again. Lessons learned from the trial Quite a few people have asked me the same question. “What have you learned from this eye experience?” In addition to the good news that they don’t land spaceships on your eye anymore, I’ve learned quite a bit, most of it from the truths of God’s Word. 1. I’m tougher than I look, but only because of Jesus in me. My eye hurt a lot at first, and the anti-viral medicine made me feel terrible. Regardless, I continued to care for animals, home, and property, in addition to ministry responsibilities. Occasionally, I sat down in the clover outside the barn and wept, but I claimed James 1:12, “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial,” got back up and kept going. 2. I’m not as tough as I thought I was, but I’m not my own power source. It’s Christ. When the anti-viral peaks and the side effects start, it slows me down. Sometimes, it stops me in my tracks. One day, I went to bed right after lunch because I was afraid I’d fall down if I didn’t. Quite a few days, I was in bed before sundown. Some days, I felt too dizzy to keep going and the side effects exceeded even my ability to stay upright. On those days, I cling to Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” I pull out my computer and write from my bed. I may not write as much, nor as well, but I continue to try. (Note: The dizziness is a side-effect and not permanent, but very aggravating. Praise God, I’m either getting used to it or it’s getting better.) 3. Vision is precious. It’s both appropriate and acceptable to care for your eyesight. No one-pill-and-you’re-done option exists to treat this viral infection. It’s taken months, and I’m not through yet. The eyes of my heart, though, are more important than my eyesight and considerably more fragile. Even if I lost my eyesight, God would make a way through. Without heart-vision, I’d be sunk. “Where there is no vision, the people perish,” is more true to me today than ever before. (Prov. 29:18) 4. Rest when we’re tired is God’s plan. When I refuse to stop, I’m fighting the stated will of God. Not a good idea. This time, I’ve rested and I haven’t felt guilty about it. (Exodus 23:12) 5. God still answers prayer. In obedience to James 5 (if you’re sick, call for the elders…) I asked the elders at my church to pray for me and anoint me with oil. On both occasions, my vision returned to baseline, even though the infection was ongoing. Hundreds of people have prayed for me and my eye has improved faster than anticipated. 6. Healing takes more time than we want.  When my doctor said the treatment would take a year, I nearly despaired until I remembered an important truth. As believers in Jesus, we don’t operate on the world’s timetable. We function from the standpoint of eternity. A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, but a thousand years is like a day. What’s a year in the big scheme of eternity? Just a blink of an eye. 7. Scripture memorization is critical preparation for hard times. There were days when eye pain made reading impossible. During those times, I recited the Scripture I’d memorized and it sustained me. I’m infinitely grateful for the passages I’ve committed to memory and even more grateful for the way God brings them to mind when I need them. It’s not over yet. I write as if I’m finished with this trial, but I’m not. Several more months of treatment await me. I’m writing now because I want to press one point. I’m living all I’ve taught, and the truth has done what I said it would do because it was God who said it first. Scripture is jam-packed with truths we can use to do more than survive the toughest of times. We can thrive, if we will. Scripture tells us He will never leave us nor forsake us, and He hasn’t. It says He will be my strength, and He has been. The instructions to call for the elders brought the result Scripture says it will bring. It didn’t look like I expected, but my vision was still healed. Standing on solid ground The solid ground of God’s word is a rock on which we can stake our lives. The last few months have proved that over and over again. It’s true in my life, and it will be true in yours. No matter what we face, God is still God and His word is still true. If you’re not in a hard time yet, prepare for what’s

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text]At Global Outreach Home office, we meet every morning at 8:30 for a few minutes of Bible study and prayer together. We share whatever we’re studying in our private devotionals. Yesterday, we read through the events of the day when Jesus was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. John Darnell shared a bit of information I completely missed in all the times I’ve heard and read this passage. It’s so profound I thought you might enjoy learning it, too. The meaning of “bar” John asked us the simplest question ever about Barabbas. What is the meaning of “bar” in a name? Suddenly, understanding dawned in all of us. In Hebrew, the word translated as “bar” means “son of.” For example, “Simon bar Jonah” means Simon son of John. “Abba” is translated as “father.” In the name “Barabbas” or “Bar Abbas,” the words indicate he is “son of a father.” Barabbas, the guilty criminal Barabbas (Son of a father), a murderer and insurrectionist, was in the custody of Pilate. Because of his guilt, he deserved the death penalty. (Luke 23:17-19) Jesus, the innocent prisoner [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/4″][vc_single_image media=”66575″ media_width_percent=”71″ alignment=”right”][/vc_column][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”middle” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ shift_y_down=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”3/4″][vc_column_text] Jesus, the Son of God (The Heavenly Father), taught, preached, healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and made the lame to walk. He raised the dead on more than one occasion. His radical words condemned rote ritual and taught the value of relationship and heart change. Jesus summed all the Jewish law into two simple commands. Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. Love your neighbor as yourself. He came to earth as a baby and was both fully man and fully God at once. Completely innocent of any crime, Jesus never sinned.   [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] The religious leaders hated Jesus Jesus loved everyone regardless of the sin they’d committed. He taught the importance of repentance and long-lasting change through the power of God. His followers included the rich and powerful as well as the poor and most notorious sinners. The Pharisees saw a clear distinction between themselves (who kept every bit of the law) and the “sinners” (who might not keep the law perfectly but found forgiveness, turned from their sin, and learned to love as Jesus said). Jesus saw through the financial schemes of money changers and sellers and knew that great profit was made by taking advantage of the poor in the name of God. He exposed the greed of the priests and elders and they hated Him for it. Jesus and Barabbas’ lives intersect. The Sanhedrin (Jewish court system) lacked the legal authority to put a man to death, so they tried Jesus, pronounced Him guilty of blasphemy, and sentenced him to death. They transferred him to Pilate to carry out the sentence. Pilate knew of Jesus and His immense popularity. He also quickly recognized He was innocent of any crime deserving death. At the Passover each year, Pilate, the governor appointed by Rome, released a prisoner to the multitude of their choosing. I believe Pilate expected the people to ask for Jesus to be released. Instead, at the instigation of the chief priests and elders, they asked for Barabbas to be released. Choosing Barabbas condemned Jesus The people chose Barabbas as the prisoner to be set free and ended the possibility of Jesus’ release. Pilate hoped to avoid putting an innocent man to death but the chief priests and elders again stirred the crowd up. “Crucify him,” they shouted over and over again. (Matthew 26: 16-26) Finally, Pilate washed his hands of the situation and released Jesus to be crucified. Son of a father redeemed by the Son of The Father Yesterday, I realized the son of a father (Barabbas) gained his freedom from the Son of The Father (Jesus) and wondered at the profundity of it. In a very real way, we are sons and daughters of an earthly father, with all the sins and failings of flesh. We are Barabbas and, like him, we deserve the penalty of death for our sin. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”2/3″][vc_column_text] We are all trapped in sin, for which payment must be made. None of us is able to redeem ourselves from the penalty our sin imposed. Only Jesus’, spotless Lamb of God, is qualified. Our freedom isn’t free. Redemption is freely given, but it was bought at a terrible price on the cross. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”middle” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ shift_y_down=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”66569″ media_width_percent=”67″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] Our response is required [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/4″][vc_single_image media=”66573″ media_width_percent=”70″ alignment=”right”][/vc_column][vc_column width=”3/4″][vc_column_text] Every gift demands a response — accept it or reject it. If we reject it, we might set it aside, refuse to open it, refuse it as a gift, or take a peek inside and reject it. If we accept the gift, we open the package, take the item out, and use it as the giver intended. So, too, with the gift of redemption and salvation. Jesus’ payment on the cross for our sin redeemed us from the cost of our sin and purchased salvation from the penalty of sin, which is death and eternal damnation. The gift was given, and we all must choose. What will be our response? Will we accept the gift of life and freedom or reject it and choose death and damnation instead? [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] No halfway measures [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”2/3″][vc_column_text] Jesus’ sacrifice was an all-in, 100% invested sacrifice. Our response must be no less. On this Good Friday, let us examine our own response to Jesus’ payment for our sin. Do we fully accept, fully surrender, faithfully follow in the steps of the One who paid it all for us or not? Today, embrace Jesus with all the love He showed for us. He gave all. We can do no less. “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 nasb ___________ If you aren’t subscribed to my newsletter

Stories of the early church have filled my devotions recently. I’ve spent days pondering those exciting times and longing to see them again. Miracles on a routine basis, crowds of people coming to Jesus, miraculous healing. Where’s the power of our faith? Why don’t we see these miracles now?  It’s not because God ran out of wonder-working, disease-healing power. That’s for sure. He’s still the same God, but what about us? Are we the same disciples as the first-century church? I’m afraid not. The importance of obedience My morning’s reading was in Acts 9, the story of Saul’s conversion and the ministry of Ananias afterward. A note in the margin of the page made several years ago, reminded me of an important truth: Obedience matters more than we realize. I arrived at Acts 9 just as I finished memorizing John 1, and was surprised by how nicely the two passages dovetail. John tells us these beautiful words: “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend (or overcome) it.” (John 1:3,4) The invasion of light Saul’s conversion is a dramatic example of the power of light’s invasion into the darkness of one man’s soul. You probably know this story, but here’s a quick refresher. Saul, a noted Pharisee, and a religious leader headed toward Damascus with the authorization to arrest followers of Jesus, bind them, and transport them back to Jerusalem for trial. (Acts 9:1,2) The believers there were warned and wary. Most people breathe air in order to gain the oxygen needed to preserve life and expel the carbon dioxide produced as waste from cell processes. Instead, threats and murder were as vital as breath to Saul. His inhalation of threats only served to preserve more threats, anger, and hatred. His exhalations were not the good service to God he expected, but purely murder. Evil filled Saul. He was bad to the core but didn’t know it. Suddenly, the light of God shone in his darkness and blocked his path. Just as John said, Saul did not comprehend it, nor did he overcome it. Instead, Jesus spoke to him from the light and, in just a few words, changed Saul’s life forever. (Acts 9:3-7) Waiting in the dark Saul was blinded by the light and spent the next three days in literal darkness, waiting. (Acts 9:8,9) At the same time, Ananias, a faithful disciple of Jesus, heard the voice of God. “Go to the house of Judas and talk with Saul of Tarsus. I’ve already told him you’re coming to lay hands on him and restore his sight.” (Acts 9:10-12) Ananias knew about Saul, and about the authorization he carried. He knew Saul was in his city to arrest him and persecute him for his faith in Jesus. (Leanna paraphrase coming up.) “I’ve heard about him, Lord. He’s brought death to believers in Jerusalem, and he’s here to get me. Is that the Saul you mean?” “Yes. Go anyway. I’ve chosen him as an instrument of mine, and you have a part to play in this story.” (Acts 9:13-16) God was so certain of Ananias’ propensity for obedience that He’d already told Saul to expect him. Ananias was frightened and anticipated certain arrest and probable death. A few hours earlier, that’s exactly what he would’ve faced. He obeyed anyway. Ananias prayed for Saul, scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight. Saul stayed “many days” in Damascus with the other disciples. Perfect obedience yields a perfect result. It would be easy to miss the fruit of Ananias’ obedience because it comes quite a few verses later. God used his willingness to obey in a frightening situation to give Saul a warm welcome and introduction to the body of Christ in Damascus. He spent “many days” and was first discipled there. The time in Damascus was not only the beginning of Saul’s usefulness as an instrument in the hand of God but also the end of his fiery persecution toward the young churches. Suddenly, the persecutor became the persecuted and other believers had a break. “So the church throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria enjoyed peace…” Acts 9:31 The peaceful oasis the church enjoyed, with rapid growth and amazing moves of God, was only possible because of the “nevertheless” obedience of Ananias. He was more frightened of disobedience than of the results of obedience, so he did what God told him to do. Where’s the power of our faith? Today, let’s pause long enough to consider the difference between the first-century church and the church of the twenty-first century. It’s not God who’s changed. It’s us. He has lost none of His power to save, heal physical illness, set captives free, or mend broken hearts. That’s what it means to be “the same yesterday, today, and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8) The difference is in our willingness to forsake everything for Him and obey, no matter the cost. We’re poorer for our reticence. Most of us cherish our comfortable, danger-free lives in which our most costly act of faith is to tell someone we know about the Jesus who saved us from certain damnation. The most difficult consequence we risk is the scorn of a friend. We face no threats of imprisonment, torture, or financial loss for the cause of Christ. Would our lives give enough evidence to convict us if we did? Fear of obedience stands in our way. Too often, we’re more frightened of what will happen if we obey than of the consequences of disobeying God. Maybe that’s because we’ve forgotten who He is: Creator and Sustainer of the Universe. Commander of the Angel Armies. Lord God Almighty. The One the Winds and Waves Obey. Jesus is not our homeboy or our buddy. He’s our King and we are saved to serve, honor, and exalt Him, not the other way around. Let’s chew on that a moment. If we

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] I thought I would never forget the miracle, but I did. Christmas morning, 2012, started out great. Ryan and I awakened early, had coffee by the tree, read the Christmas story, and opened gifts. The dogs bounced and raced around, excited because we were. I went to the kitchen to start breakfast and decided a treat of peanut butter in their Kongs would settle them down and keep Maggie and Mamie occupied for a while. The unopened 40-ounce jar of peanut butter sat on the top shelf, just out of reach. I stood on tiptop, used my right hand to steady myself, and stretched. Just as my fingers touched the jar, the dogs caught my attention and I turned my head. In a quick instant, my life veered off course. The jar slipped out of my grasp and crashed to the counter. It landed on my right pinkie and instantly shattered the bone. Pain shot from my finger through my entire body and I thought I might vomit. Instead, I collapsed to the floor, held my hand, and rocked back and forth. Finally, I summoned enough strength to call for Ryan. He ambled into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw me on the floor, his eyes wide. My hand hurt so badly, I could barely speak, but I finally managed to say, “I think I broke my hand.” Ryan stood, speechless, for a moment then asked if I needed some ice. I needed more than ice, I thought, but it was a start. He helped me up and I held tight to my hand, uncertain what to do. “I am NOT sitting in the emergency room on Christmas,” I insisted. My mind focused on our family celebration in Starkville at my sister’s house. It was our first Christmas without my mama, and I determined to make things as special as possible. I did what must be done. Since we had a 90-minute drive to my sister’s house, I decided to splint my hand. In the haze of pain, the only solid things I could find were two peppermint candy canes. Somehow, Ryan and I managed to drape my pinkie finger around the curve of the cane and strap it in place. It looked ridiculous. I knew that at the time, but it hurt too much to figure anything else out at the moment. I drove to Starkville and paced and moaned the entire time there. My nephew, an EMT, insisted I let him see my injury. We removed the gauze and viewed the bruises and swelling together. “Oooh, Anna. That looks bad,” he told me. “It is bad,” I assured him. Things got worse… After we returned home, I devised an infinitely more comfortable splint from a small wooden spoon. Ryan padded my hand and wrapped it in gauze. I had a full schedule the next day and was the only doctor in the clinic, so I worked, as usual, my hand still splinted with a wooden spoon. I can’t imagine what the patients thought. And even worse… Four days after the injury, I had surgery. We opted for eternal fixation to lessen the likelihood of long-term sequelae. It sounded good in theory but meant I had three pins sticking out of my finger. I won’t bore you with all the details of that ordeal, but it was painful, hard, and long. Finally, the surgeon removed the pins and I began physical therapy. My right pinkie and ring fingers were frozen in place. It took months of exercises and rehab to regain function. The first time I clenched my hand in a fist felt like a miracle. When I picked up a feed bucket with my right hand and held it without dropping it, I wept with joy. I thought I’d never get over the miracle of healing, but I did. Today, I saw something that reminded me of the blue external fixation pins and thought about my amazingly complete recovery. My hand works well now. I have a strong grip and full flexion and extension. A few years ago, I thought that degree of function impossible, but it’s real. Healing happened. I expected to treasure my healing every day for the rest of my life, but it didn’t take long to fade from memory. These days, I rarely consider how well I can use my hand, nor how hard I worked to have that function. Hard times are always temporary. Like all hard times, my difficulties were temporary, but they didn’t seem that way at the time. I wanted an “instant” miracle. Mine took surgery, physical therapy, and nearly a year of recovery. It felt, at times, like forever, but it wasn’t. This morning, I’m reminded that all hard times are, in a way, temporary, including my cornea difficulties. Because of the hope of heaven, even a devastating medical illness only lasts a short time compared to eternity. In heaven, no hard times are allowed. No sickness or sorrow invade those gates. No matter what we face today, God is with us and He will help us through. Regardless of how difficult, our situation will end and we can get through it. Even when we think we can’t. Let’s take heart in the words of Scripture. God cares for us. (1 Peter 5:7 ) He loves us. (John 15:12) He will never leave us nor forsake us.(Hebrews 13:5) We can do what we must because we need not do it alone. Take heart in that truth and press on. May we, like the apostle Paul, press on to the prize set before us and keep our eyes, hearts, and hope focused on the goal.  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:14 You might also enjoy: When I Traded My Happy Heart for Grumbling and How I Got it Back[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text][/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]I’d love for you to share and pin this

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text]In a group text several years ago, my nephew asked an interesting question. “Where would y’all choose to be if you could be in three places at once (with one being work) and what would you be doing in said locales?” I knew my sister wanted to be at the beach. She loves having sand between her toes. My first thought, “wherever Ryan (my son) is”, seemed too mushy, so I held back on that.  Instead, I answered, “at home and at home.” I love being at home and don’t mind if a thousand people drop by, as long as I’m in my happy place. My niece’s answer was good, too. “Watching my kids doing whatever they are doing”. Our conversation prompted me to ponder contentment, that beautiful state of being satisfied and at peace with what you have and where you are. The sin of discontent John the Baptizer addressed this issue when soldiers in the crowd asked how they could “bring forth fruit in keeping with righteousness.” His answer was simple. ”Don’t steal, don’t lie, and be content.”  (Luke 4:14) Contentment is an action you choose, not a state you wander into by happenstance.  Discontentment and the desire for the newest “thing” are both inconvenient and hard on the pocketbook. Even worse, they’re sin and habits that can become a gateway for even worse sin. Choosing contentment: Choosing contentment starts with a grateful heart. Remember that old song, “Count your many blessings, name them one by one”?  We begin to choose contentment by recalling our blessings and expressing gratitude to God. On occasion, I look at my kitchen countertops and think, “They need to be updated.” My Formica countertops are not trendy, cool, or in style. I know all that.  They serve the purpose, though, and the only real reason to replace them is discontent. I’m not confident that reason will please God, so I decided to keep the Formica for now. Counting my blessings I’m stunned by all God has provided for me. I live in a veritable garden, awaken to a symphony of songbirds, and retire in the evening to the songs of the night. I’m blessed with food on my table and a roof over my head. My loved ones are healthy and safe. I serve in a ministry I truly love. God’s generosity knows no bounds.  Complaints and discontentment would be crass and ungrateful to the One who’s lavished such blessings upon me. What reason do I have for discontentment? None at all. The next line in the “count your blessings” song goes like this: “And it will surprise you what The Lord has done.”  It’s true. Let’s count our blessings until we’re totally astounded by all God has done. And he said to them, “…be content with your wages.” (Luke 3:14 NASB) [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]You might also enjoy: When I Traded My Happy Heart for Grumbling and How I Got it Back Contentment Regardless of Circumstances: Why it Matters The Come and See Witness[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Thank you for the gift of your time as you’ve read. I hope this post has blessed you. Would take a moment to share on social media? If you’d also pin to Pinterest, that would be another huge blessing to me. Thanks for helping to extend my digital reach. You’re awesome and I thank God for you!  Here’s a pinnable image:[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”middle” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ shift_y_down=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”67334″ media_width_percent=”75″ media_link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.leannahollis.com%2Fchoosing-contentment%2F||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row]