Taking it Personally

The delicious fragrance of cinnamon apple filled the house yesterday, and it’s only September! The day before it was the aroma of key lime and the day before that Hawaiian pineapple. However, if you happen to come my way, don’t expect a luau, spiced cider, or delectable pie. It’s not that my hospitality is lacking (there is plenty to go around) but candles aren’t very tasty, even if they are mouth-watering.

Candle-making. It’s my youngest daughter’s new enterprise; her effort to earn money for a mission trip next summer. And even though this business is her project, she’s not the only one breaking up wax, cleaning molds, printing labels, or promoting the product. When she makes a good sale her dad and I rejoice, and when things are slow we show compassion through words of encouragement. Why? We are emotionally invested in this child…our child.

Emotionally invested; that’s why we take everything so personally. When someone makes a generous donation, offers to sell, or buys even when they really don’t need five clean cotton candles, my heart swells with gratitude. It’s as if those benefactors affirmed me personally. I couldn’t be happier. What you do for my child you do for me. It’s that simple. If you help or hurt my child you’ve helped or hurt me. There’s no separation. There’s no middle ground. I take it personally.

This makes me think….

Jesus talked a lot about how we interact with each other. A lot. He said things like,

“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:35)

“But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” (Matthew 5:39)

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)

“This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your” (Matthew 18:35)

“…whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)


And though that’s just the tip of the iceberg, I do believe it gets the point across. God cares how we treat each other.

So I’m wondering….could that last one translate into, “I’m emotionally invested in my children. What you do for them you do for Me. If you help my child you helped Me. If you hurt my child you hurt Me. There is no separation. There is no middle ground. I take it personally” ?

I think it does.

As unto the Lord

I poured my life into them.
I worshiped with them.
I prayed with them.
I cried and celebrated with them.
I spent many thoughtful hours preparing gifts for them.
I genuinely loved them.
But in the end, I was betrayed by many of them.
My broken heart was confused and indignant. How could this have happened after all I’d done for them? Pouring my life into these ungrateful people now seemed like wasted time and energy. Is there no reward for effort? If I had only known it would turn out like this….

You know what I mean. You’ve been there. I don’t need to tell you who “they” are. “They” can be anyone. Family. Students. A spouse. A congregation. “They” can be friends, co-workers, or an organization.

God’s been there.
Jesus poured His life into people.
He worshiped with them.
He prayed with them.
He cried and celebrated with them.
He spent many thoughtful hours preparing a gift for them. *
He genuinely loved them as no one else could.
But in the end, the majority betrayed Him and killed Him.

Christ’s heart was broken, but not because He was confused or indignant. He didn’t whine, “How could this have happened to me?” He did everything good knowing exactly how it would all turn out. And how did it turn out? After the bloodshed, after the pain and suffering, after having His heart broken from the weight of the world’s sin, He sat at His Father’s side victorious. Mission accomplished. His effort received a priceless reward…Us.

Anything and everything I do for people is wasted time and energy. But anything, everything done for the Lord will be rewarded.

Our priceless reward? Him.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” ~ Colossians 3:23-24

* Think Garden of Gethsemane.

(c) Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2009

Here I am. Send Me?

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’”

Many of us enthusiastically echo the prophet Isaiah’s words. We want to be about The King’s business. We want to make a difference in this world. Our ultimate goal being to hear, “Well done good and faithful servant.” We are inspired by spiritual giants like Billy Graham, Chris Tomlin, Beth Moore, Michael W. Smith, Rick Warren, or Tony Dungy. People extraodinarily gifted by God with high-profile platforms from which to glorify His name. And that’s all we want to do, isn’t it? Bring glory to His name?

But what if…

What if the place God sends us isn’t vast stadiums to preach the Gospel to spell-bound crowds responding in droves to “Just as I Am”?

What if that place isn’t large coliseums leading thousands of youth in singing our Dove Award winning worship songs?

What if that place doesn’t include Nashville recordings, New York Times Best Sellers, or Super Bowl championships?

What if our place to bring God glory isn’t in the spotlight at all?

What if He wants us to shine for Him…

…living in an inner city, run-down apartment?
…while taking dialysis or chemo treatments?
…crying at the bedside of a sick loved one?
…struggling through unemployment and poverty?
…learning humility through humiliation?
…suffering in a concentration camp?
…walking through the valley of the shadow of death?

..."taking one for the team"?

What if the place He sends us, the place we can bring Him most glory is uncomfortable, unsanitary, or downright painful?

Would we still be willing to say, “Here am I. Send Me?”

Do we only want to bring God glory if some of that glory reflects on us?

It’s time for some soul-searching.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." ~ Matthew 16:24-25

(c) Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2009

Becoming My Mother

Becoming My Mother

It’s official – I’ve turned into my mother.

I suspected as much last summer when we were both caught wearing similar bathrobes and slippers. It became clearer upon discovering both our pre-Katrina preparations included boiling eggs and filling the bathtub with water. Let’s face it, for years we’ve laugh at the same jokes, enjoyed the same books and movies, and appreciated good puns. (Not everyone can, you know.) And in spite of the fact she loves squash, which I despise; my notions that I was becoming my mother were recently validated at the local Dollar General Store.

“I’ve got to get a pair of reading glasses,” she began. “I just can’t read the fine print on boxes anymore.” As she perused the reading glass rack my suspicion was confirmed, for it wasn’t my mother who was trying them on and speaking, it was me!

I’ve always had 20/20 vision and became slightly irritated when my mother would say, “Just a minute, let me get my glasses first,” every time I asked her to look at something. Over the past year, however, I’ve noticed a few changes. Manufacturers have changed the print size on their packaging, the light by my reading chair has grown dimmer, and people have been standing too close to my face during conversations.

Alas, the evidence mounted to beyond a reasonable doubt, so I scheduled an appointment with the optometrist. “When you reach forty your eye muscles start weakening,” she politely said during the exam. “You could use a pair of reading glasses.” What she meant was, “Nothing’s wrong with you; you’re just getting older.” Well meaning? Yes, but it brought little comfort coming from a twenty-six year old.

My mother and mother-in-law are forty…well, er... at least they were the last time I noticed. My mother-in-law’s fortieth birthday celebration was only yesterday. Wasn’t it? I was madly in love with her son at the time. The simple fact she was my boyfriend’s mother meant she was old. (Ahem…I mean old-er.) My own mother was forty when I married that same fellow, and we’ve only been married a mere…let’s see…twenty-one years. Twenty-one years?!?!? Yikes! That makes me…oh, my!...forty-one! How did that creep up on me?!?!?! That means I’m old! (I mean old-er.)

To be honest, turning into my mother isn’t such a horrid thing. She’s smart, caring, a hard worker, has a heart for God, and can make an awesome pan of chicken and dumplings. She has a great sense of humor and a love of books that’s been passed down to me and at least one granddaughter. She has a creative side I greatly admire, is a good listener, and repeatedly puts her faith into action. I consider myself blessed to be her child.

I modeled my new reading glasses for my own children the night I got them. “They’re cute!” one said kindly. Another wasn’t quite so tactful. “You look like Grandma,” she declared.

Actually, I hope I do.

© Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2005

Rescue Operations

I’ll be honest; sometimes I get tired of praying. (Is anyone else honest enough to admit it, or am I the only one?) Sometimes I feel as if it is a waste of time. How many hours have I prayed for So and So’s marriage to be salvaged, for Such and Such loved one to be saved, or for Dear Friend to be delivered from “this or that” only to see no visible results? It gets frustrating and downright discouraging to say the least. I was at that point the other day, wondering why I “waste” my time on seemingly futile petitions.

It was then I turned to 2 Corinthians 1:8-11.

The Apostle Paul tells of a personal time of testing which was so severe he and his companions “despaired even of life” because it was “beyond our ability to endure”. We think of Paul as being a true hero of the faith, a pillar of strength and wisdom, and yet even he reached a point lower than low. I’m sure he could have thrown himself a nice pity party, feeling forsaken by the One he’d given his entire being to serve. He could have whined and complained about how unfair life is and given it all up to take a nice day job. But not Paul; even in the storm he saw God’s hand and purpose, “But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.” His faith did not waver. He knew God would deliver him, and He did.

Now, here’s the part about prayer:

“And he did it, rescued us from certain doom. And he’ll do it again, rescuing us as many times as we need rescuing. You and your prayers are part of the rescue operation…” (Emphasis mine) 2 Corinthians 1:11 The Message

The great Apostle Paul’s rescue, though ultimately by the hand of God, was somehow tied to the prayers of his friends - fellow believers! Paul is telling them this after the rescue which means their prayers made a life and death difference in Paul’s life though the petitioners were oblivious to the outcome at the time.

It makes me think.

Is there someone sinking today because I’ve given up the “rescue operation”? Is someone’s eternal destination in question because I’ve not been diligent in my intercessions? Is deliverance just around the corner waiting for one last petition?

There’s too much at stake for me to give up now.

© Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2006


(Author’s note: My use of The Message is by no means an endorsement of the entire book. The Message is a paraphrase whose author has put the Scripture into his own words. While a good devotional tool, a translation such as The New International Version (NIV), New Living Translation, King James Version, or New King James Version is a more accurate choice. I chose to use The Message for this particular devotion because this particular wording captured my attention, causing me to see prayer in a new way. A quick comparison with the NIV reveals this passage is accurate in the Message. Not all passages are.)

Allowed to Rest

Allowed to Rest
1 Samuel 30:10; 15 – 25

Feel free to read all of 1 Samuel 30 for more background on this story, but really, the most important thing you need to know is that 400 of David’s men had just defeated their enemy, the Amalekites, and reclaimed their children, wives, and all their possessions. Not only did they reclaim what was theirs, but we can infer that they actually came home with more than they had lost. (Verse 16) In Verse 21 these four hundred men meet back with the 200 men who had not gone into battle - men who had stayed behind to rest. Can you imagine what was going through the minds of those who had just risked their lives to get back what was theirs while the others sat on their duffs? Let’s take a look at this reunion.

In verses 21 – 25 we see two opposite reactions to those who “stayed with the supplies”. What was each reaction?

David:

David’s men:

Carefully look back at these verses. Did all of David’s men feel this way?

What words are used to describe the ones who were bitter?

Why was David so gentle with those who stayed behind?

While some of David's men may have taken credit for the victory against the Amalekites, David clearly realizes that it was God who handed over their enemy. He also realizes that each man had a different role to play. Some went into battle, but some needed to watch the supplies. It was the "evil men" and "trouble makers" who didn't have sympathy for those in need.

The main truth I see in this story is "permission to rest". Those two hundred men stayed behind because they were exhausted. It wasn’t that they were lazy or fearful; it was that they were beat and unable to go on. They needed rest.

Can you relate? Have you ever been too worn out (not just physically, but emotionally) to continue on? Maybe you feel that way today. Perhaps, like David’s men, you need permission to simply rest. Well, God is giving you permission today. Read what each of these passages say about resting:

Genesis 2:1-3
Exodus 14:14
Psalm 23:1-3
Psalm 46:10
Psalm 91:1
Isaiah 40:11
Isaiah 40:31
Matthew 11:28–30
Mark 6:31

In early 2000, my family and I left the United States to serve two years as missionaries in Europe. It is the most difficult thing I'd ever done in my life. Language, cultural, and religious barriers often seemed insurmountable. While people back home applauded and patted us on the back for "being on the front lines", I felt anything but applaudable or victorious. It was one long spiritual battle after another, and quite frankly, I felt more like a small child than a "soldier". A song I'd heard ten years before often came to my mind, and for some reason it came to mind today as I was studying this lesson where David's men rested at Besor Ravine.

In the early 90's I heard a song by Twila Paris entitled "The Warrior is a Child".

The Warrior is a Child
By Twila Paris

Lately I've been winning battles left and right

But even winners can get wounded in the fight

People say that I'm amazing Strong beyond my years

But they don't see inside of me I'm hiding all the tears

(Chorus)

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down

They don't know who picks me up when no one is around

I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Cause deep inside this armour The warrior is a child

Unafraid because His armour is the best

But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest

People say that I'm amazing

Never face retreat

But they don't see the enemies

That lay me at His feet

Chorus x2

I drop my sword and look up for His smile

Because deep inside this armour

Deep inside this armour

Deep inside this armour

The Warrior is a Child

May you find Besor Ravine today and rest in the palms of your Father's hands. (Isaiah 49:15 & 16)

Passport Stamps

In honor of the Fourth, I thought I would post some thoughts on citizenship I wrote while living overseas.

Passport Stamps
May 5, 2001

Sometimes I still feel like a small child on Christmas morning, filled with excitement at the possibility of fulfilled dreams. My excitement spills all over everyone in my path, and I just can’t control my enthusiasm. I had one of those days last Thursday. Everyone in a five mile radius knew I was giddy with excitement when our Slovene friends announced that our Friday plans included an excursion into Austria. (Ok. Ok. Maybe not a five mile radius, but everyone in the house.) You might be wondering, “So,what’s the big deal?” Well, to this country, Mississippi girl who has memorized most of the songs from The Sound of Music, going to Austria was big stuff. My expectations weren’t even great. I didn’t have to go to Salzburg and take the Sound of Music tour. (Even though I’d love to some day.) I didn’t have to enjoy authentic Austrian food. (We ate at McDonalds.) I didn’t even have to “shop ‘til I dropped”. (I bought some shaving cream and a few postcards. ) Learning German and living like an Austrian weren’t even part of the plan. I didn’t want to live there, I just wanted my passport stamped. I wanted proof to show that I’ve been to Austria. It was a tense moment when the border guard tried to wave us through with just a count of passports and passengers, but our driver kindly asked if the Jeffcoat’s passports could be stamped. (Which he did!) I was thrilled and satisfied.

Even though my excitement nearly drove Raymond and the kids crazy, I don’t think it was a bad thing to simply want my passport stamped with the Austrian insignia. (I’ll be glad to show it to you sometimeJ) But I did get to wondering…Do I/we ever approach the kingdom of God the same way? Sure, we all want to enjoy the Kingdom of Heaven in the next life. But do we really want to be a part of it in this one?

If I go to church on Sunday and live like I want to Monday through Saturday;

if I give begrudgingly to the church or special offerings;

if I join the church and am baptized, but my life hasn’t changed;

if I do things for God out of a sense of duty and not out of my love for Him;

even if I live as a “missionary” in a foreign country, but have a heart full of self-pity;

then I’m only having my spiritual passport stamped for show and am not really living the Kingdom life.

I don’t think God wants tourists to His Kingdom on earth, He wants committed citizens. He wants people to live the Kingdom life here and now every minute of every hour of every day. If I were a citizen of Austria, I wouldn’t be merely passing through, I would plant my life there. I would have to leave my American comfort zone, give up my American ways, language, and life style, and abide totally by Austrian rules and culture. It wouldn’t be easy.

If I want to be a genuine citizen of Christ’s kingdom, I have to give up my worldly ways, language, life-style, and totally abide in Christ. Often that means reaching beyond my comfort zone to touch the lives of others. It isn’t always easy. But it is always worth it, because even though His Kingdom is one of self-sacrifice and self-denial, it is a kingdom of love. There’s no place like it on earth.


“But your hearts must be fully committed to the Lord our God, to live by his decrees and obey his commands…” (1 Kings 8:61) “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Colossians 1:23)


Dear Lord,
Help me to make the necessary changes in my life in order to be a committee citizen of Your Kingdom. When it comes to Your Kingdom, I don’t just want my “passport” stamped, I want to live, breathe, and experience You every minute of every hour of every day. Amen.

Striving to be a good Kingdom Citizen with you,
Drewe Llyn

Bloom where you are planted.

"Bloom where you are planted" was my first thought when I noticed this petunia growing by my grill. But the more I've thought about it, the more I think this photo should be labeled "With God, all things are possible."

This petunia wasn't "planted". Obviously a very, very tiny seed (Have you ever seen a petunia seed?) fell from my window box last summer and got washed into this crack in our patio. Then, unnoticed, unloved, and uncultivated it not only made it to maturity, it bloomed!

As followers of Jesus we often try to plant "seeds" of kindness, love, forgiveness, and hope in difficult places - prisons, hardened hearts, and cracked lives. Many times our efforts seem futile. Can change really happen? Can love truly bloom? Can people honestly break free from the strongholds that control them?

God just smiles; for in His kingdom there is no one unnoticed, unloved, or beyond His reach. He can take the smallest "seed" in the hardest heart and cultivate into something beautiful. See the proof for yourself.

Nice? To Her?!?!?!

The sign hanging from a pink polka-dotted ribbon boldly declared, “DO NOT DISTURB.” What better invitation did a twelve-year-old need to barge into her older sister’s room?

“Get out!” the eldest yelled, “And I mean now!” Rather than leave quietly, the younger began a volley of less than loving words. The older was more than up to the challenge. After several rounds, the younger finally ended it with a slam dunk and a slammed door. With determination she set off to find a sympathetic ear (a.k.a. me, her mom.)

In an effort to justify herself, my younger daughter let fly a string of examples to prove she is always mistreated by my older one. I listened patiently, finally counseling her to “just be nice to your sister.” (This seemed the motherly thing to say)

“Why?” She demanded, “Why should I be nice to her?” (With an emphasis on “her” as if uttering “her” real name might cause regurgitation.) Without waiting for a reply she proceeded to list all the reasons her older sister did not deserve kindness. And while there was some truth to her words, I knew her sister could compile a similar list. Exasperated by this time, I once again admonished the younger to treat her sister with kindness. She looked at me with her own frustration and demanded once more, “Why should I?”

All the good things her sister had done for her were on the tip of my tongue waiting to fly off like messengers of grace to bridge this valley in my daughters’ relationship. I realized, however, that the younger was not in the Land of Reason, so I decided to put it bluntly, “Because I said to.”

She gave me a bewildered look and left deciding, I suppose, the cat appeared to be more sympathetic than I.

I began to think.

How often do we, God’s children, exchange cross words with one another justifying each one? Do we explain to God why we can’t be nice to So & So, detailing all the reasons they don’t deserve kindness?

Perhaps the reason we are to treat our “brothers” and “sisters” with love is not because they deserve it, but because Dad said to.

That’s something to think about.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” ~ Ephesians 4:32

Sisters who usually get along.

Just Like Everyone Else

Life is hard.

Period.

There is no way around it. Sooner or later everyone breathing on this planet will experience difficulties of some kind. The possibilities are endless:

• financial hardships
• family strife
• sickness
• relational issues
• hurricanes
• fire
• tornadoes
• cancer
• alcoholism
• drugs
• flood
• famine
• war
• depression
• death of a loved one

As I said, the possibilities are endless. There are some who think, even preach, that hardships are brought about by sin in one's life, that "Good Christians" don't suffer like everyone else. And while I do concede some "trials" are self-inflicted, it is downright cruel and just plain wrong to say Christians are above the hardships of life. We weren't promised a "smooth ride" when we gave our lives to Jesus. (Sorry to burst anyone's bubble.) Christians experience life just like the rest of the world.

We are tossed, battered, and bruised by life's storms, but we have an Anchor keeping us from being totally demolished.

We sometimes lose our way and get confused, but we have a Compass to refocus us and put us back on track.

We sometimes get discouraged, depressed, and heart-broken, but we always have Hope.

We make wrong decisions, bad choices, and miserable mistakes. Often we don't resemble what "Christians" should be, but we have forgiveness, mercy, grace, and rest for our souls.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." ~ Matthew 11:28-29 (NIV)

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." ~ John 16:33

Frodo's Calling

It seems improbable that I include The Lord of the Rings Trilogy on my list of all time favorite movies, especially since I’m generally into “Chick flicks” and not “shoot ‘em ups”. (Or in this case “spear and slash ‘em up”.) Yet, I absolutely love these movies. I suppose I’m drawn and captivated by the many spiritual truths they contain – truths about friendship, loyalty, devotion, self-sacrifice, and calling.

Frodo, one of four extraordinary Hobbits, was quite evidently “called” by some higher being to carry the power-wielding ring to its destruction. No one else could do it, not even his faithful companion Sam. The wise elf-queen Galadriel said quite plainly, “If you don’t find a way, no one will.” And of course by movie’s end, he does find a way, receiving high commendation for his service from the King of Gondor.

I love stories where ordinary people step up to the plate and selflessly attempt an extraordinary task for the betterment of others. They travel long and perilous paths sprinkled with splashes of joy and tender moments. There are always “Gollums” who would derail the mission, and occasional “Sams” who forward it by their own devotion and self-sacrifice. And in spite of all the harrowing experiences and difficult challenges, in the end, the mission is accomplished making the world a better place. *sigh* These always leave me inspired by the hero’s courage and inner strength and yearning deeply for a calling of my own. I want to make a difference in my world.

After much pondering I’ve come to a staggering realization, I have received a higher calling, one requiring a generous supply of inner strength and courage, one that will impact my world, changing the course of history for those around me. It’s my job and mine alone, a task that won’t get done unless I find a way.

What is this task? The Great High Power, God Almighty, has asked me to care for those He’s personally entrusted to me - my children and my husband - not to their destruction, but to their construction – nurturing, encouraging, and building them up to be all He created them to be. Sure, someone else can cook, clean, shop, and read to the kids. Indeed, millions of women around the world have received similar callings, but God has uniquely crafted and gifted me to be the mom and wife these children and this man need in order to fulfill the call on their lives. If I fail – if I’m not true to the things I’ve been asked to do, if I don’t run the course, if I choose a different, easier path – what then?

Well…I’m sure, at first, Frodo and Sam didn’t fully understand the magnitude of their mission, or the consequences of failure. Neither do I.

So, I have accepted the challenge and press patiently onward…past runny noses, spilled milk, and sticky faces; through mood swings, broken hearts, and temper flares; tackling dirty faces, greasy dishes, and stained laundry, while stomping the occasional spider. Fortunately, my path is dotted liberally with lullabies, rocking chairs, and campfires; snuggles, chocolate chip cookies, and shopping sprees; church plays, family outings, and read-a-louds. I’m ever mindful to be the loving hands, feet, and voice of Christ to my family, so at the end, on that day when we all stand before the King of kings, we can all hear, “Well done, My good and faithful servants.”

I dare not fail.

“…I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” ~ Ephesians 4: 1 & 2

Dear Anna Claire

Word came that four-year-old Anna Claire’s three-week-old cousin had stopped breathing during the night. While paramedics worked feverishly on Baby Matthew, family members called everyone they knew requesting prayer. Precious time passed, and as fear and panic set in more and more calls were made. What a scary time for anyone, especially Anna Claire. What could she do? How could she help? Finally, in desperation, she shouted out the only thing she knew to do, “Call Jesus, Momma! Call Jesus!”

My dear Anna Claire,

Oh, that it were that simple. To just pick up the phone and call Jesus would be a wonderful thing, wouldn’t it? People who are sad, lonely, or hurting would be able to call Jesus when they need Him most. You have the right idea about Who to call when in trouble, but the problem with telephones is you often get a busy signal or an answering machine. Sometimes, like during Katrina, the phone lines and cell towers are down and you can’t get through.

Don’t worry, though, Anna Claire, you can call Jesus any time of the day or night, and He’ll never be too busy to listen. You don’t even need a phone. Just close your eyes, think about Him, and say, “Dear Jesus.” And He’ll be right beside you, listening to your every word.

I don’t know why Jesus didn’t let Baby Matthew stay longer with you. I know it makes you very sad. Can you picture something? Can you picture Jesus stretching out both arms? He is so big that one hand reaches all the way to heaven and the other one is right here on earth. Standing in His hand here on earth is you and your family. And in heaven, safely in His other hand, is baby Matthew. Jesus has you both, and He won’t let go.

It’s ok to be sad; when you are sad and need to talk to someone, pick up your heart and just call Jesus.

“Call to Me and I will answer you…” ~ Jeremiah 33:3

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands." ~ Isaiah 49:16

© Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2007

Palms of His Hands Story

Palms of His Hands

It was spring, 1991, when my grandparents buried their first born child, my aunt, claimed by lung cancer at the age of forty-nine. My first born, age two, wiggled beside me during the service even as my second child squirmed within – her debut still six weeks away. Maternal emotions consumed me causing heightened awareness of my grandmother’s grief. How does a mother bury a child – a part of herself? I knew her painful loss would remain the rest of her life.

The officiating minister, surely nudged by the Holy Spirit, read from Isaiah:

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands..." (Isaiah 49:15-16NIV)

Those words flew straight to my heart. How well I knew that no nursing mother can forget her child! Her entire body aches and yearns for her baby making forgetting a physical impossibility. Yet God says, even IF a nursing mother could forget, He would NEVER forget us. His love is deeper, His memory is greater, His heart strings are stronger than even the most devoted mother. He yearns for us making forgetting a spiritual impossibility (Jeremiah 31:20). We are permanently engraved on His very hands – a part of Him. How awesome is that!

It was fall, 1997, when the church we were serving gave my husband and me a tremendous gift – a trip to the Holy Land! Forever we will be grateful for that wondrous experience. Before we ever boarded the plane I envisioned the perfect souvenir – a carving of a child in the palm of a hand. I’d never seen such a statue, but I was on mission to find one.

Traipsing all over Israel, my eyes scanned the goods inside every little shop to no avail. When even the Olive Wood factory in Bethlehem failed me I began losing hope. God, however, smiled, for late in our trip my treasure was found at a small shop in Jerusalem’s King David Hotel. There it was, out of olive wood just as I pictured it, a hand with a child carved on it! I could now return home triumphant and satisfied with my special souvenir of a remarkable experience. Little did I know that souvenir would soon become an incredible symbol of God's abiding presence.

It was summer,1999, when my husband and I felt the call to foreign missions. We, our three children included, applied for a two year assignment overseas. There was no doubt God said, “Go!” He just didn’t say where. The mission board invited us for a two day conference to interview and discern a location. Hours passed with no direction. "Stressful" hardly seems adequate to describe the experience. Tears prepared for overflow. I turned toward my husband in despair and glimpsed a curio cabinet I had passed many times during the day. I stared. Why hadn't I noticed it before? Sitting on one of the shelves was a small statue of a hand with a child carved on it. "See, I’m still holding you," God said. And He was.

It was spring, 2002, when our overseas adventure ended, and again we longed for directions that seemed slow in coming. A myriad of emotions swirled inside once more. God’s voice seemed blocked by the inner turmoil. In desperation I cried, “OK, Lord, how will you show me this time that we are still in the palm of Your hand.” (I admit to wondering if we still were. My faith was wavering.)

Not many days later I walked into a nearby Christian bookstore. There on a sale table just inside the door was… (Drum roll please)…an olive wood carving of a hand with a child in it. Though it would yet be several months before we received His directions, it was a comfort knowing we were still not forgotten.

It is now Spring, 2007, and we have been in our new place of service almost five years. Life is pretty settled, at least for now, as the statue sits serenely on my desk. I suspect though, life being what it is, a time will inevitably come when once again I will need a clear reminder God’s still there holding my family and me. I have no doubt that somehow, someway, when I least expect it but desperately need it, God will find a remarkable way to once more assure me I am still remembered and forever kept safe in the Palm of His hands.

“The eternal God is a dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms…” Deuteronomy 33:27 NASB

©Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2007