Ceasing to Pray

It is relatively quiet this morning.

There is a good breeze swaying the tree branches, filling the air with the rustle of leaves and removing the need for fans.

The water is a little more choppy this morning, its wavy surface reflecting the gray clouds that hint at the forecasted rain.

There is a dark gray bird hopping from branch to branch in the pine tree outside the window.  I don’t know what kind it is, it is not on my bird identification chart; but it is diligently moving through the tree.

And there it goes – off to some other location.

We have had a family of four small raccoons wandering the area recently. We first noticed them one evening when we were standing outside and they came across the back of the property and climbed the neighbor’s pine tree, to sit all huddled together on a couple branches and then peer at us around the trunk of the tree.

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I said it is relatively quiet – outdoors, that is – I can hear the sounds from the tv in the living room – Lightning McQueen and Mater talking and laughing – alongside a small childish voice that is singing one of the songs from the movie.

And as I sit here, smiling at the near perfect pitch in that small voice, I am also considering the admonition for constant, diligent prayer from 1 Samuel chapter 12:

“23. God forbid that I should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you; but I will teach you the good and the right way: 24. Only fear the Lord, and serve him in truth with all your heart: for consider how great things he hath done for you.”

Those two verses pack quite a lot of directives into those few words, and point to the fact that it is a sin when we cease to pray for others.

And so, as I go through my day today, I will be praying for you, dear friends, that the Lord will work in your lives and direct your paths.

God bless.

© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com   2018

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Being Salt and Light

As I sit here at my desk, a mourning dove lands on a branch of the pine tree outside the window. His sad lament is what first drew my attention and it takes me a few minutes to find him hidden within the branches. He allows me to take his picture, before flying off into a distant tree.

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He is followed by a Blue Jay, a Junco, and a tiny sparrow; all flittering from branch to branch, too shy to wait for the camera to find them and zoom in.

The cry of the dove is replaced by the insistent warning chirp of a chipmunk which, I would assume, means that George (a large cat with an amazing likeness to Garfield) is out roaming the neighborhood.

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The water is relatively smooth, with only a light ripple along its surface. A far cry from the white caps that rolled along during the last rain storm.

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A boat slides slowly, silently by, its three occupants busy about their own adventure. I know not what that might be. Fishing, perhaps?

And as I contemplate my own day’s adventure, I am conscious of the Sunday morning sermon a couple days ago about being salt and light.

We are salt –

We should act as a preservative, slowing the decay of sin and godlessness around us by the lives we lead. And, like salt, our lives should be creating a thirst in unbelievers, not just for water, but for the Living Water – Jesus Christ.

We are light –

Our lives should be reflecting the light of our Savior into the darkness around us. We are called to be bright lights to those lost souls that we come into contact with, a testimony to what Jesus has done and is doing for us.

There is a choice to be made –

Whether to be salt and light, or whether to be ineffective, as salt that has lost its flavor or as a light that has been covered up.

Do we want to lose our usefulness? Do we want to dim the light so we no longer shine for Jesus?

Or do we want to flavor the lives of those around us with the love and grace that can only be found in the Lord Jesus and so shine forth as a beacon to those lost ones that we come into contact with?

Thank you, Pastor, for these thoughts and lessons.

 

© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com   2018