Lessons in Little Things

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The Pharisee Within

Published August 13, 2018 by Dawn

“Lord, why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 14:37)

All four Gospels share this exchange. Peter vowed to Jesus that he would go with him to prison and even death, rather than disown him. What a friend, right? Of course, we all know what happened just a few hours later. In what must have been the scariest moment of his life – and probably the most disappointing as well – Peter watched Jesus be lead away in chains and then tormented in every sense of the word. He no doubt felt the loss of every hope he had of seeing Israel restored to God’s favor and liberated from the tyranny of Roman rule.

What exactly was Peter getting at when he said, “Even if all fall away, I will not” (Mark 14:29)? Furthermore, what did Jesus mean when, later in John 21:15, he asks Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” Allow me to share what I felt the Lord laid on my heart a few weeks ago in regard to these scriptures.

There was something undone in Peter that had to be exposed and removed before he could effectively do what God had purposed him for. His question, “why can’t I follow you now?” was a foreshadowing of the hindrance God was about to uncover in his heart. When Peter told Jesus, “Even if all fall away, I will not,” what he was baring for all to see was the Pharisee within. Peter thought there was something in everyone else around him that he could never be guilty of. He thought his devotion to Jesus eclipsed that of his partners and friends. In essence, he thought he was incapable of falling in the same way everyone else was destined to do that night, per the prediction Jesus had made. Christ gently affirmed Peter’s eventual course, which Peter again refused to acknowledge his propensity toward.

Peter couldn’t avoid the falling away. He was destined for it. His weakness was about to be exposed. “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32). How wonderful that Jesus knew his failure before it even occurred and had already interceded for him!

I can’t imagine how painful the next few days were. Peter had to live with the guilt of his betrayal while he mourned the loss of his best friend. They had met eye-to-eye as the rooster crowed. Peter had wept bitterly knowing that Jesus hadn’t missed the sign he’d spoken of. The guilt must have been very burdensome, because when the disciples saw Jesus on the shore of Galilee after the resurrection, Peter jumped overboard and swam to Jesus while the rest of them rowed the boat back in. He was miserable, I’m sure, until he could repent at Jesus’ feet. Later, they walked side by side and Jesus said, “Peter, do you love me more than these?” I never understood that question before, but now I think I do: Jesus was addressing the original thought in Peter’s heart, where Peter thought he loved Jesus more and that was why he believed himself utterly incapable of sinning in such a way.

Peter was hurt. Ashamed. Still comparing himself, as he nodded toward John and said, “What about him, Lord?” Jesus simply said, “Don’t worry about him. You follow me.”

I believe it’s true that many Christians are really good at watching their lives and doctrine closely (1 Timothy 4:16), and that’s scriptural. Nothing wrong with that. But I think we can also become so focused on our own efforts and our perceived goodness that we look at others and think, “Oh, I would never do that.” This attitude can be a hindrance to our ministry to love others because it’s not humble, and just as surely as Peter had to get that out of his system before he could see thousands respond to the Gospel, we will also stumble on all the things we are certain will never trip us up, until we hang our heads in shame, seek forgiveness and walk in humility among the people God has called us to minister to.

We can take heart in the fact that Jesus is never disillusioned about us. He knows what we are capable of far better than we know ourselves and intercedes for us according to his foreknowledge. He’s never surprised. There’s incredible comfort in that!

Ultimately, we must acknowledge the truth of Galatians 5:17, that the spirit and the flesh are at war and we are fallible to our fleshly nature at any given moment that the Holy Spirit is not leading us. But thankfully, there is redemption written for every failure because Jesus was victorious. He prayed for us so that we can be strengthened in our areas of weakness. God loves the humble, and these failures bring us nearer to the heart of God rather than further away, if we are willing to be guilty before him, as Joshua was in Zechariah 3. There are so many tremendous examples of failure followed by God’s forgiveness and redemption. The Christian should be relieved to know this, as the Pharisee within must be removed before God can use us like He used Jesus. Lift your head, friend, redemption draws nigh!

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Jesus is a dog person

Published July 30, 2018 by Dawn

Remember that one time Jesus low-key insulted a woman? It was actually a very beautiful exchange, but it is quite shocking on the surface. Jesus was hiding out in a house in Tyre, failing miserably to keep his presence there a secret. As soon as this woman heard about him being nearby, she goes to the house and throws herself at his feet (this part of the story is recorded in Mark 7:24-30). Her daughter was being tormented by an evil spirit and this mother brought all of her hope to Jesus and begged him to release her little girl. Matthew 15:21-28 tells us that the first time she asked, He ignored her. Then, she kept pleading incessantly until his disciples had enough.

“Send her away, Lord! She keeps crying out after us!”

I don’t know how the next part came out. Was it apathetic? Cold and distant? Weary? He said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” She was a Canaanite and I’m sure knew how to read between the lines. She was not on the VIP list. Instead of turning away, which is probably what I would have done, she knelt at his feet and implored, “Lord, please help me.”

Surely that got him, right?

“It’s not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

Bruh. Did you hear that? Jesus just called her a dog. This momma bear was undeterred and quipped back, “Yes it is, Lord. Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

This whole conversation is marked with grace beyond belief. It fell into my remembrance the other day as I made my way to the living room with a snack. My dogs were getting a knee here and a toe there because they weren’t moving with me while I walked. They were doing their best to be as close to my food-hand as possible. When I sat down, Hoggie (full name Mahogany, but Hoggie makes sense …) crept behind my knees and wound herself up around the back of my leg to peer up at me from the center of my thigh gap so she could catch any and everything that fell from my mouth. I was beyond annoyed. Ruffles, the other pup, was sitting on my toes at a safe distance from Mahogany’s jealous jowls, watching in anticipation. I remembered this woman’s response and the power of her words finally hit me; no wonder Jesus commended her for her faith and answered her plea.

I don’t know about you, but at my house, eating is kind of a robotic thing. We don’t worry about food and we eat on schedule every day. The kids don’t beg for food, they simply respond to it. Food appears, they eat. They don’t say thanks, because it’s a given that they’re going to eat. It’s an expectation and they aren’t ever disappointed. Well … sometimes. Let me rephrase that: they aren’t ever hungry.

My dogs, however, would prefer the food from my table over their own. When we’re eating, they are as close to us as they can get (Ruffles is always sitting on someone’s feet and Hoggie is always edging her way into a thigh gap). They eagerly salivate at the thought of someone sharing and jump out of their skin to be closest to the ground when a crumb falls. A crumb. It’s ridiculous the tidbits they find worth their time and effort.

I wonder if Jesus’ attitude was a set-up. Did his disciples know how awful they were being? They were children and heirs who had become flippant about Jesus’ purpose. They were self-righteous snobs who knew they belonged at the table. The children of Israel were God’s people, but they were entitled and I think Jesus wanted them to see that. After all, they had free access to what she needed most desperately. Would they really deny her pleas just because of her heritage? Seems they would, but would He?

It gave me chills to parallel this story to the behavior of my dogs when food is involved. It seems like Jesus is insulting her, but once again, we find him in irony. This woman is desperate. She carries on the analogy and equates him to her owner. She tells him she is willing to take even the crumbs – the offal from the table – because she considers even the tiniest morsel to be worth her time and effort. The children would never do that! Suddenly, I wanted so badly to have that kind of devotion. Not the devotion of a child, because I find that children have a blind devotion and a common lack of appreciation. No, the devotion of a dog. Dogs are such loyal, loving and zealously devoted creatures and they abandon themselves in their displays of affection for their “masters.” They love to eat, most especially, the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.

I bet his disciples learned something that day. I know I did when the full weight of that conversation hit me. No wonder dogs are known as man’s best friend! And no doubt, Jesus is a dog person.

 

 

Bewildered Parent, Please Read!

Published July 24, 2018 by Dawn

So, I met someone …

It was most unpleasant and such as it was, I decided almost immediately that this wasn’t for me and I didn’t ever want to do it again, for sure.

My son introduced me. I didn’t understand exactly what was happening at the time. I’m a little clueless like that, but in hindsight, I understand full well what was going on, and thank God for that! Otherwise, I would have taken the whole ordeal personal for years to come.

I met my son’s … sin nature. It’s silly, isn’t it, that after years of being in youth ministry, I wasn’t better prepared for the moment when my son really came into his own. Being fully aware that we all have a sin nature, how did I not immediately recognize what was happening? How did I not immediately run to God in faith that He can deal with the sin nature? Instead, I freaked out.

I did everything within my power to protect my kids as they grew up. Fifteen years single, celibate … 24/7 mom with no other goal in life but to raise two happy, healthy, well-adjusted kiddos into adulthood. No cable, nothing but Christian music on the radio, church three times a week … I had a list of credits that made me feel really good about their future selves. Then I met someone … the inner sin nature of my unbridled and foolish teenage son. I looked at my list of self-righteous accomplishments and threw my hands up in bewildered defeat! What now, God? How did this happen?!

It was bound to happen, and I should have known that. After all, WE ALL HAVE A SIN NATURE! Turns out, I can talk about that in ministry, but it hadn’t sunk in. I was doing a lot of things to avoid what would certainly surface anyway, and needs to because here’s the truth: how can we understand grace and the depth of sacrifice Christ made for us if we never face our sin nature? Do I want my son to not see himself in light of the word of God and the truth of Christ’s forgiveness? Absolutely not! Before the cross on Calvary’s hill can astound him, he must first know his own inability to attain righteousness on his own. And I can’t take this part of his walk with God personal!

I shared this for the parents out there who are blaming themselves for their kids’ behaviors. I’m not going to say you had nothing to do with it, but you haven’t nearly the fault you hold against yourself. Sure, you see yourself in that kid. You recognize your own past and recoil. But it’s all just fodder for the revealing of a sin nature that Christ will soon destroy. Our kids cannot ride to heaven on our coat tails (or apron strings). We must allow God to do a work in them, and it’s painful to watch. Rest in this, friend: God is a good Father. He is our Abba Daddy. He’s my son’s Abba Daddy too. What He has done in us, He will faithfully do in our children. Trust Him! Pray for your kiddos and allow God to work in them. You need to let God take control while they are in your house, so you can encourage them in that transition. Don’t fight it, and don’t fight your kiddos. Love them. Guide them. Pray over and encourage them. Correct them in love. This is how God has dealt kindly with you, and your wayward kiddos need that same kind of support. Trust God to deal with the things you cannot deal with. He must become greater; you and I must become less.

How to Fall From Grace

Published July 9, 2018 by Dawn

It turns out a sense of humor is something of the Divine. God’s got jokes. Don’t believe me? Listen to this …

Keep in mind that what I am about to tell you happened in a matter of nanoseconds. All of it. It was rather instantaneous, which makes it even more comical. It’d use the word “impactful” but that’s a pun that hurts a little. You’ll see why …

I was less than two minutes into my run this morning when it happened. I looked up to read the sermon sign at this church along my route: “How to Fall from Grace.” My sense of comical irony kicked in as I thought to myself, “Who would want to know how to fall from grace?”

BAM! The sidewalk took me for a kiss out of nowhere. I fell hard … right in front of the church sign. Stupid comical irony … wasn’t dead yet. I looked up after feeling the hurt and laughed out loud. God had put the smack-down on my sense of humor to remind me that falling from grace is no laughing matter. Lesson learned?

No one in their right mind plans a fall. Falling hurts. It also tears you up a little (or a lot, depending on how far you fall). The aftermath of falling is open wounds, constant pain and a desperate need to heal a bit. Thankfully, I am just a little scuffed up. My hands, wrists and right knee took the fall and I’ll be better in no time.

Sometimes, we just get tripped up in life. Little did I know there was an uneven bit of sidewalk that I’ve never had a problem with until today. I didn’t even know it was there! Likewise, there are pitfalls in life we don’t see coming because we aren’t paying attention, or we aren’t expecting them. We get tripped up because Satan sets a snare and we step into it just the right way to cause a fall. I have stepped over that part of the sidewalk and avoided that fall for several years but today was the day it took me down. It’s like that when Satan sets us up. That’s why we have to be vigilant while running this race. Because he’s set snares everywhere.

The fall might hurt, but Satan isn’t victorious because we fall. He’s only victorious if we turn away or stop pursuing God after the fall. In spite of the pain, we have to get up and keep going. I did that this morning, which is so abnormal for me. I like my couch and a hot tea, and since I was two-tenths of a mile into a two-and-a-half mile run, turning around would have made perfect sense. I could have nursed my wounds, taken it easy, and excused myself from working out. But it was just a fall! I poured a little water over my palms to clean the dirt and blood off, put my earbud back in and kept going. I had to keep pressing on toward the mark, and so do you, friend. Take time to rest and heal, but get back up and keep moving forward in your walk with God. Satan is only victorious if you quit!

 

Ever-Present Father

Published July 5, 2018 by Dawn

She looked up into the stands and gave her mom the most pained look of disgust. It was bewildering. “What have I done now?” her mother thought. The rest of the Friday night game was a blurry memory, obscured by that look on her daughter’s face. When the final seconds wound down, a hurt and confused mother hurried down the bleachers toward her daughter. “What was that look for?”

Without having to consider for a moment what look she was referring to, the pretty cheerleader burst into tears. “How could you not tell me my dad was coming?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Your dad was here?”

She nodded her head and sobbed.

“Well, what happened?” Her mother was starting to panic. What had happened to cause this emotional upheaval?

“He leaned over that rail and called out to me. When I turned around, all he said was, “Do you want some money? … Mom, why would he ask that? I haven’t seen him in forever and he didn’t even say hi or anything. No ‘I love you.” Just, ‘Do you want some money?’ No, I don’t want your freaking money!”

It wasn’t about the money. It was about a girl who wanted to see her dad and hadn’t for a while. A girl who later explained that she would prefer his presence over his wallet. A teenage girl who taught me something so profound: a father’s worth is not in his ability to provide. It’s not in his willingness to bless his children. It’s in his presence.

I’d never considered how distorted my expectations were in my relationship with God until this moment hit me in the car one morning. I remembered it with such clarity, and with the memory came this weird mixture of conviction and deep peace. I could clearly see the way I had been approaching God, desperate for His wallet, so to speak, and angry about what I perceived as lack between us. I thought about the daughter who just wanted her father to be there, whether he was providing or not. I thought of the presence of God in my life and how He’s been faithfully “there” for me, in good times and bad. Not always blessing me, not always providing in the ways I consider the best, but holding me. Comforting me. Being my companion through an often lonely life. My Father. His strong arms. His strong love for me. His never-failing presence. In hindsight, I understood her heart-cry in that moment and was suddenly so very grateful for the constant presence of God. I suddenly understood it to be far more important than anything He does for me. I finally understand why Paul was able to walk the road he walked, without comfort and without any semblance of hope in this life. He had the ever-abiding Spirit of God and it was enough. It’s still enough.

Riding in the Car with Teens

Published June 12, 2018 by Dawn

Do you know what I love about riding the in the car with teenagers? No, this isn’t a rhetorical question … I really do love the fact that they are stuck just a few feet from me. If the ride is long enough, the radio sputters out and dies to all the radio stations we know and love, and frustration kicks it off in a huff. If it’s not long enough, I resort to the buttons on the back of my steering wheel to thoroughly frustrate that kiddo until the radio no longer contends with me. Then, I have their full attention! I mean, of course there’s the cell phone that seems forever stuck to their face, but I can handle that with a smile and a quip about grounding until, viola! I have his or her full attention. With luck, it doesn’t take long for a kiddo to remember how fond he or she used to be of having endless conversations with me and if the grudge doesn’t have a firm grip, we’re usually talking shortly thereafter.

My son was stuck in the car with me for a half an hour yesterday, and the radio knew it’s place so we were engulfed in a very meaningful discussion about teenage things that weigh heavy on his heart. Why can’t he do whatever he wants? Why am I always telling him what to do? Why can’t I just leave him alone? I try to make my kids feel heard, so I didn’t just throw out all the parental clichés, I really dug deep and tried to explain things from my heart, from scripture, and from all the psychology and parenting books I have consumed over the years. He sat next to me and thoughtfully picked through my answers looking for holes and justifying his disagreements with a mixture of childish reasoning and adolescent maturity.

Our conversation ran the gamut of experiences, arguments and emotions. Finally, we arrived at the counselor’s place and he got out of the car steaming. Together, we went inside and for the next hour, I sat in awe while the counselor taught him through very practical means, to reason through those same questions himself until he had arrived at the same conclusion I had offered with my motherly wisdom just a while before. He got in the car after his appointment and said, “Mom, she called you. I know she did. How else would she have known to talk about all that?”

It was easy to exculpate myself. He had started all the conversations on the way down and I hadn’t talked to anyone one the phone in the car! I shook my head and said, “No, son. When God wants to talk to you and you won’t get on your knees before Him, He just uses the people around you.” The best part is that this woman professes to be agnostic, and she was used by the Lord just the same. God is no respecter of person, and when He wants to teach us or guide us in something, He doesn’t have to ask someone to be His vessel. He will move heaven and earth for His children. It was such a powerful reminder to my son that God is aware of his searching heart and is willing to meet him where he is and lead him out of the darkness and confusion. What a wonderful moment to watch his Heavenly Father step in!

I shared this to encourage you. You might be a parent desperately praying that God will get ahold of your kiddo. I am with you! Don’t give in to fear because God is faithful to His promises. I kept reminding the Lord of scriptures He has given me over my children. “God, you told me, ‘I will contend with those who contend with you and your children I will save.’ You said that when we raise them up in the way they should go, when they are old they won’t depart from it. I see him being led away with anger and the enemy’s lies and I’m terrified right now!  I’ve told my son that you said you would never leave us or forsake us but he feels abandoned and ignored by you.” I’ve cried countless hours watching my child pull away from me and from his faith. It’s a horrible experience. Don’t give up! Keep praying and pressing in, reminding God of His promises and praising Him for His faithfulness. Remember watching your child’s first steps? Rushing in when he or she seemed a little unstable, your heart in your chest and your hands out ready to catch your precious treasure? This is your child learning to stand on his or her own spiritually. It’s seems like endless waves of anxiety and uncertainty. Your heart finds permanent lodging in your throat. But your Father – your child’s Father – He’s got this.

You might also be that child. That wandering child of God. That scared kiddo wishing the world made sense and that someone would step into the mess and pull you out of it. I wish I could tell you in good faith that God will rescue you, but sometimes He doesn’t. Sometimes, you’re Jonah in the belly of the whale and that fish will spit you out when God’s work is accomplished in it. Sometimes you’re Shadrack, Michek and Abednego (how to spell those names, though …) in the fiery furnace and instead of keeping you from the fire, God is walking with you in it. Sometimes you are Paul, beaten, captive, shipwrecked, snake-bitten and still God keeps you steadfastly on the way to fulfilling all that He has purposed. Don’t turn away from your faith just because it’s small or brittle. Let the Holy Spirit strengthen it as you endure. Lean into God. Learn to hear His heart. Learn to let go of control and depend on Him. Learn to be led. Be comforted. Get real with God and let Him be real with you. It’s the most precious relationship a person can have and it is worth all that hell uses to deter you with. Trust your Father, child. He loves you more than you could ever know.

Published June 10, 2018 by Dawn

I hurt. I should be walking through the doors of church right now but instead, I’m still lying in bed with my feet hooked on the end of the mattress, gently stretching out my calve muscles while I write. I’m going to miss church this morning, which means there will be no one to lead youth. I’m also going to miss our fundraiser – the men’s group is selling the best barbecue this side of heaven – which is going to directly benefit the youth group. I should be there but I couldn’t push myself to get out of bed this morning. I’ve been enduring one pain after another for a while now, but yesterday took the cake in the duration and intensity. Although I can’t be sure of a proper diagnosis, I’m fairly confident in my educated guess that all of this can be attributed to a lack of stretching before and after my runs.

Did you know that your hamstrings can tighten so much that they can pull your pelvis out of place? I didn’t either. When I abruptly stopped my half-marathon training in January to pacify my daughter and went from running 25-35 miles a week to running nothing for two months, I gave no thought to the creeping tightness in the back of my left leg. Nor did I connect it to the first twinge in my upper back. I wondered about the lack of running being connected to the stiffness that set in to my lower spine, and when my gait became uneven, I knew a trip to the chiropractor was in order. But I didn’t know it was all because I hadn’t stretched.

The chiropractor straightened me out and educated me on the hamstring. He warned me to stretch it out properly every day before I left his office. I should have listened, but who has time for stretching, right?

My mom and I go to the gym M-F. I only live two and a half miles from the gym so I get up in the morning, lace up my running shoes and meet her there. I walk about a minute up the hill from my house and then take off toward the gym. I used to do a five-minute walk to warm my muscles up before running, but now that I’m meeting mom at the gym, I don’t have time for that. She gets to the gym ahead of me and does ten minutes of cardio so that when I get there, we can head straight into lifting. I might stretch my arms a little after signing in, but here lately, I’ve had to be back home within half an hour of getting there, in order to take my son to football practice, so we move right in to lifting without stretching. My mom drops me off at home afterward and my son meets me at the door ready to go. I drive him to school while my muscles cool off and then go home to take a shower and get ready for the day.

I think my body is in revolt. The chiropractor warned me about what can happen if I don’t stretch my muscles, but he didn’t tell me about the creeping pain that starts out subtle and turns into a fire. He didn’t tell me about all of my muscles coming together in defiance to torment me while I sit helplessly behind the wheel of my car on a long drive, unable to stretch them out. He didn’t tell me that not stretching my muscles could cause a mutiny in my body.

It seems silly to be telling you all this, but although I’m not at church, the Holy Spirit has been ministering to me all morning and the lesson started with this musing. See, my current physical situation mirrors my spiritual one: I’ve been in pain for quite some time, and most likely, it’s because I haven’t taken time for the things that matter.

I’m into the final stretch of raising two kids on my own. Thus far, I’ve made it through a combination of prayer, fasting and constant surrender to the Lord. I have pleaded for His wisdom and strength, as well as His provision and comfort. God has not failed me. But this final stretch … well, it’s a lot like any final stretch for me while running. I’m not the kind of person to look at the finish line and press harder toward it. I see a finish line and quit trying early because I can see it … I’ll get there eventually. That last little bit of the race is so hard! That’s why I stop running. It’s so painful. My muscles have already endured so much and I’m ready for it to be over. If I push through, I put my muscles through the worst pain of the race! Why not just walk it in? I’ll get there eventually.

Raising teenagers is hard work. It’s the last leg of the race, I’m exhausted and this is the most intense moment of parenting. It seems endless, although people will tell you, “It goes by so fast!” I silently lament, “Not fast enough!” I feel like I used to have allies in my home, and now my crew is in revolt. They seem to hate me in unison and attack me without provocation. It’s full on mutiny.

I’m not naïve enough to believe this battle is avoidable. This is just how raising teenagers goes. They literally fight you to become their own person. No one who’s done it tells you it’s going to be easy … but nothing they say can prepare you for the mental breakdowns, the constant confrontation, or the letting go. I might have avoided some of the pain, though, if I’d taken time for what really helps. Prayer. Fasting. Constant surrender.

How is it that the things that matter most are the things we put off first? It seems rather lunatic to know that stretching after a work out is so vital, and yet one does not spend time doing it. The suffering for it is inevitable. Likewise, how lunatic to know how important prayer and surrender are and yet not taking time to do so. Especially on the last leg of the race! If I were a well-disciplined runner, I’d be pressing in toward the mark. I’m not, though. And because of that, I’m suffering at home instead of leading my teens in Bible study. Although right now, it’s a physical pain that has kept me in bed this morning, sometimes, it’s a spiritual battle that I’m losing because I’ve ceased trying.

I don’t know if any other runner out there will be straight up with you about running but let me be honest: running sucks. It’s never easy, and just when you think it might be getting easy, something inevitably slams you back into reality of how much it sucks. Why do we do it, then? To eat cake. To fit into our clothes. To see results just a little faster. So we don’t have to fad diet. For the carb loading. For the mental health benefits. Cheap therapy. To be introverted without being judged. The same is true of prayer and fasting. It’s not easy, by any means. To still yourself before God can be the hardest thing. To calm your flesh in the presence of the Holy Spirit is so difficult. To still your mind and quiet yourself so you can hear Him speak is like herding cats. Who has time for that? But listen to me: the benefits outweigh the pain, aggravation, whatever.

Clearly, taking a break from running and not stretching out my muscles regularly has been the worst physical fitness decision I have ever made. Similarly, not taking time for prayer and communion with God has had dire consequences in my daily race. The good news is that I woke up this morning determined to make a change. I might not have went to church, but I have been in the presence of the Holy Spirit, praying and stretching while I write. It’s never too late to get back into the race, friend. It’s never too late to bow before your King in surrender. It’s never too late to make time for the things that will really make a difference in your daily life. I urge you to decide today that things will be different and allow the Holy Spirit to teach you how to discipline yourself. You’ll be so grateful you did.