Caregiver Devotional

The Long View

2012-01-29T18:06:00.000-06:00

Therefore, my beloved brothers, besteadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that inthe Lord your labor is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58. ESV

I love the thereforein this verse. It just could have been placed in Scriptureespecially for caregivers. Why do I say that? It is so relevant to ourcallings. How rare is the moment that, while we are seeing to the most basicneeds of our charges, we don’t feellike our labor, our thankless, repetitive, menial work is in vain. Who thanks the one who changes a bandage? Gives ashot? Cleans up a smelly mess?

And yet, the passage says our works—yes even these tasks—willnot be for nothing. That means they are forsomething. All of them. (Double negatives in the English language becomepositives—one of the few grammar lessons I still remember from grade-schoolEnglish!)

Why do we know that? Back to therefore. What comes before this passage is one of Paul’s (and Scripture’s)most beautiful descriptions of the believer’s prospects in the long view—what wehave to look forward to experiencing one day in the real, if seemingly distant,future. And that future provides the why and wherefore of the therefore.

Behold! I tell you a mystery. Weshall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinklingof an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead willbe raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. 1 Corinthians 15:51-52

Exactly what is imperishable?Or as other translations (and great lyrics in Handel’s Messiah) put it, incorruptible?According to Spiros Zodhiates’ book The Complete Word Study Dictionary – NewTestament, it means “exempt from the wear, waste, and final perishing whichcharacterize the present body of man.” We caregivers get an up-close view of thatperishing every day—and it tears our hearts out. In fact, it is a huge part ofwhat has us feeling like our work is so futile.

But look at what Paul says our beloved Christ has instore for us and for every one of our caregiving charges who has trustedChrist:

For this corruptible must beclothed with incorruptibility, and this mortal must be clothed withimmortality. When this corruptible is clothed with incorruptibility, and thismortal is clothed with immortality, then the saying that is written will takeplace: Death has been swallowed up in victory. 1 Corinthians 15:53-54

There’s that rich word again: incorruptible, this time paired with immortal. For the believer who is a caregiver trying in vain to wardoff the sting of the wear and waste and perishing that come with our loved ones’aging processes, this pairing gives us the assurance that not only is theperishing going to be conquered in our new bodies, but the exchange is eternal—forever!It’s not like the decay is slowed down or turned back for a time (think of thehealings Jesus gave to many in the crowds during His earthly ministry). No,this time, the exchange is for absolute perfection and is utterly permanent.

My pastor preached on this passage this morning, giving astirring reminder of what’s in store for the believer. A body and soul reunitedin heavenly perfection. The joy of being rewarded in that day with not only a “glorified”luminous body so like our Lord’s, but also of being crowned with priceless jewelsas a result of our steadfast, immovable work in His name done in this life,with our own perishing bodies and redeemed spirits.

No wonder Paul leads into the therefore with this amazing line:

But thanks be to God, who gives usthe victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! 1 Corinthians 15:57

Now, there’s a long view that ought to breathe fresh airinto your lungs. I know it’s doing just that for me as I continue to dig on myown for riches in this passage.

Oh, and by the way, if you’re interested in hearing Colin Smith’s message on this passage (with a deep examination of verse56: about the sting of death being sin and the power of sin being the law),visit this link on Tuesday of this week (or later) and it’ll all be there.Especially if you can’t get out to your own church, this is a great place toget your spiritual tank refilled every week. This one, dated January 29, 2012,will be titled “The Resurrection.” http://theorchardefc.org/arlington-heights/worship-and-sermons/listen-to-campus-sermons/.If you go there today, you will be able to access the previous three messagesin the series.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

Power and Weakness

2012-01-11T10:52:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

My apologies for the brevity of my recent devotional thoughts. I'm knee-deep in writing my new book, on one of the shortest deadlines I've ever agreed to. In fact, though, I am on schedule--this week both passing the halfway point of creating the first draft and reaching the halfway point of the contract term. I'm feeling a little like I'm using up my word allottment for each week on book chapters, though. Like I have nothing left when I'm done with work for the day.

But I never want you to feel like I'm giving you second best. So, I want to share with you one of the Scriptures I've been studying for today's chapter. I do believe this one has direct meaning to each of us in our caregiving roles, as well as to both our ailing loved ones and our personal physical challenges.

It comes from the apostle Paul, and it is an oft-quoted passage--too often, though, quoted at us in our suffering, to chide us rather than encourage us. First, here it is:

Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this [Paul's thorn in the flesh], that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me (2 Corinthians 12:8-9, ESV).

First, I observe Paul's emotional pleading to God to remove this debilitating pain from him. Second I observe that God does indeed answer. I guess I'd like to know if God answered Paul when he first prayed, or if He seemed silent until after Paul had pleaded three times. But Scripture doesn't tell us that. It only indicates that Paul got an answer he didn't want, at least initially. God said no to His servant. Here's my paraphrase of what God told Paul:

No, I won't take away this sharp pain that seems to be hindering your ministry. Instead, I'll give you the grace to stand it--and the power to accomplish My purposes in it. Now that you know for sure that you're weak, you'll have the opportunity to see how strong I am.

I love Paul's response--although I'm too often hard pressed to respond in kind. He not only accepts God's answer as sufficient, but he also is grateful for the power of Christ that shows itself so clearly in his pain.

Please don't think I'm one of those quoting this Scripture at you. No, I'm sharing it with you, because I've had more than my share of opportunities to live out how true it really is. Even today, I'm feeling painfully aware of my own weakness, yet even so I'm experiencing His inexplicable power to continue my work--in strength that is not my own. And so, I pray for you today, my friend, that you will experience this same assurance--that even when God chooses not to change your painful circumstances, He is gracious enough to sustain you and powerful enough to shine through you in them.

I can say this to you only because I know it to be true. And what He did for Paul, what He's doing for me, He's willing to do for you, too.

Blessings and prayers,Julie

© 2012, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Year with My Compassionate Lord

2012-01-01T10:48:00.000-06:00

Treasured Friend,

Each new year, I seek from the Lord a verse of promise, encouragement, even challenge. I reread and review that verse, along with its related passage, throughout the coming year--and it provides a growth point for my relationship with Christ. One year, the passage was John 17--my study of which eventually became my book and Bible study: Praying Like Jesus. Other years, the word has been to return to my first love (last year's) or to simply stand firm when all is falling apart around me. It's a tradition I've kept since college--and one I am continuing this year.

Also, for many years, I've kept a Bible open in various locations (something I learned from reading that Billy Graham does it!) throughout my home and office. Each time I pass the open Bible, I read a verse or a passage. I have one that I read when I'm brushing my teeth, for example. Another on the printer beside my computer. Another on a display table in my bedroom.

It was that third one whose pages got blown around when I was vacuuming my room the other day. So, when I looked down at it last evening, it was open to a passage I hadn't read in a long time ... Isaiah 54.

The entire passage blew me away, as it related to some of the unique pains and sadnesses on my heart. Then I got to verse 10, and realized it was the answer to my prayer for a 2012 annual verse. I share it with you from the HCSB, because it's so vibrant and personal in that translation:

Though the mountains move and the hills shake, My love will not be removed from you and My covenant of peace will not be shaken,” says your compassionate LORD (Isaiah 54:10).

So much richness is there. So much promise. I love the adjective He chooses to describe Himself: compassionate! A word from my compassionate Lord is one I cannot ignore. One that comforts me in a way none other could.

And that promise is so vital in our topsy-turvy days. Though this world may quake and shake and all its foundations crumble, my peace with God through Jesus Christ and my position as beloved in His eyes are secure. Absolutely incredible. Only the Almighty could make that promise and keep it. And He does, and He will.

I challenge you some time in this first week of a new year to read this passage for yourself, perhaps even the whole chapter, and see whether our Lord has a word for you from its riches.

A blessed, safe, joyful, and God-filled new year to you and your loved ones!

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2012, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Christmas Prayer

2011-12-23T21:41:00.003-06:00

Treasured Friend,

Caregiving is never easy. And in this Christmas season with all the celebration going on around us (perhaps even without us) and with its added responsiblities and the added reminder that normalcy for us may be a thing of the past, we may be tempted to be discouraged.

In those moments when I'm watching courage drain out of me faster than my bathroom sink empties, the temptation is great to give up on expecting anything from God, to give up on even asking Him for my daily supply. Despair oozes up as courage drains down. And instead of running TO God in those moments, I'm tragically tempted to push Him away.

In case that sounds familiar to you on this Christmas week, I want to encourage you not to give up on prayer. We may not get the answers we want, just when we want them. (I got a poignant reminder of that this week.) But the blessing and the beauty of prayer is that it isn't about us at all. It isn't about getting our answers. It isn't even about giving God our want-lists. Not one bit.

No, prayer is all about the one-on-one relationship Christmas made possible -- the one-on-one relationship between our Creator God and us. He is at once supreme over the universe and intimately concerned with the intricate happenings of your life and mine. He longs to hear from us and to talk to us. He gave us the unique gift of prayer just so that could happen. He wrapped it up in love, and His Son offered it to each of us when we accepted Him as our Savior. Prayer was His idea. And in the end, it truly is all about Him.

Here's what I wrote in my book, Praying Like Jesus:

[T]he nature of gifts [is this:] They do not just please the recipient, butthey also express the personality and the joyful spirit of the giver. It is asmuch fun to choose a gift for a loved one as it is to see her joy in receivingit.

God's gifts are no exception. James writes, "Every good andperfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights"(James 1:17). ... The gifts God gives to us are many. Salvation, of course, is thepinnacle of these. But He also gives us abundant life; enjoyment of beauty;love, joy, and peace. Sometimes He gives us items from our wish lists. Othertimes He gives gifts we didn't know we wanted. And some of His gifts comewrapped in the tissue of sorrow, pain, or disappointment. The child with Down'sSyndrome who becomes a sweet blessing. The parent whose funeral celebrates aGod-filled life. The loss of a job that challenges a believer to attendseminary.

Hear Jesus' words in His masterpiece of oratory, the Sermon onthe Mount: "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good giftsto your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts tothose who ask him!" (Matthew 7:11). God's gifts, like His character, arealways good. They flow out of His loving heart. But they flow the most when wehumble ourselves and ask of Him. Jesus invites His followers to "keep onasking, and you will be given what you ask for. Keep on looking, and you willfind. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened" (Matthew 7:7 nlt).

So as you're opening a gift or two with your name on it this Christmas, remember the gift of prayer God offers to you with open hands. In this season of celebrating the coming of His Son as the Child Who would grow to be our Savior--remember to use and consider precious the gift He provided to each of us--the gift of anytime/anywhere access into His presence where we can keep on asking and know He will hear and answer.

That being said, my Christmas prayer for you this year is that you will be courageous and tenacious in lifting your heart's Christmas prayer to heaven's throneroom -- where it will be received personally and answered by Our Father Who is in heaven.

Blessings and prayers -- and Christmas Joy!

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Christ(mas) Love

2011-12-10T06:10:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

It’s Christmas. Or nearly so. The season of getting, right? The season of accumulatingthe biggest stack of cards and the tallest pyramid of presents, right? The seasonof making our lists and handing them off to someone else to fill. Oh, wait.That makes it sound a lot more like standing in line at the pharmacy with ourlist of prescriptions (which I did for an hour the other day to try to get Dad’snew meds filled).

Well, of course that’s not it. No, we all can rattle off thereal reason for Christmas—giving, right?Well, sort of. The Christmas story in one verse pretty much boils down to: GodsolovedtheworldthatHe GAVE …

The way that reads gets close to my usual understanding of theverse—to me it's always been all about celebrating the giving of Jesus Christ as the sacrifice for my sin, theSavior of my soul, the initiator of my new life as a reborn-in-spirit persondestined now for eternity in heaven.

But what if the real meaning isn’t about the giving any more than it is about thegetting? What if the real motivation is hidden in that quickly glossed-oversection of John 3:16:

For GOD so LOVED …

I suspect that the essence of the true story of the birthand death of the Son of God is wrapped up in those two words: God loved. The all-sufficient Creator ofthe vast expanses of universe and the tiniest quark and everything in betweenneeded nothing. He wanted for nothing. And if He had wanted anything, He could merely breathe or speak itinto existence. That, in fact, is exactly what He did when He wanted to express His vast store of creativity.

And yet, because His heart beats with kindness, withcompassion, with unmerited mercy, with amazing grace, with longing, with love for the helpless beings He createdin His own image—because of all that, He did something about our condition—He gaveHimself away to be subjected to unspeakable torture. But again, the giving awayisn’t the big story here—it’s all about that amazing God-love that was behindthe scenes of the giving. Fueling and motivating and underwriting it.

In the same way, the story of holding Christmas in ourhearts and expressing it year round to the people in our lives who need itdaily, is equally less about the giving we do and more about the motivation forthat giving. As caregivers, we do give. It’s in the job description, if you’llrecall an earlier entry in this blog. In fact, so pivotal is giving to ourcalling that it’s in our title!

But the motivation of the giving means everything. Do wegive our time and energies to our ailing, aging loved ones out of duty. (Godsaid to honor our parents, so I’m going to do it if it kills me?) Is it out ofguilt? Is it out of a desire for others to hold us up on pedestals (what asweet daughter you have!)? Is it out of anger or frustration? Is it out ofsheer grit and determination?

Some days, our caring may be tinged with these—on our less-than-gooddays. But I love the truth that as believers in Christ, as recipients of theGod-love that reached down to us in the incarnation of Jesus Christ, we gainthe potential of reflecting and exhibiting that God-love in the real world where we live. I suppose that’s whyGod made such a big deal in my life earlier this year (in February, as you’llrecall) about returning to my first love in Him. Because in my growing cold ofheart, my calling was running even colder yet. And He wanted something betterfor me, better for my parents … He wanted it all to be done in love.

Getting upbefore dawn to make breakfast and shuttle Dad off to his blood test--done in love. Spendingthe day in the waiting room with Mom preparing for her surgery—all about love. Advocating forthem both--because of love. Interpreting confusing documents—even that's with love. Giving shots. Ordering meds. Justsitting and listening to whatever is most important to them—maybe the most love-gesture of all.

So my Christmas challenge—to myself first, and you’re freeto take it up for yourself if you’d like—comes from 1 John 4:

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knowsGod. Anyone who does not love doesnot know God, because God is love. Inthis the love of God was mademanifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we mightlive through him. In this is love,not that we have loved God but thathe loved us and sent his Son to bethe propitiation for our sins. Beloved,if God so loved us, we also ought tolove one another. No one has everseen God; if we love one another,God abides in us and his love isperfected in us. 1 John 4:7-12

Let’s ask for our heavenly Christmas gift this year to beall about expanding our capacity to love God and love each other as God lovesus. Let’s ask for the ability to live out this love in such a way that anyonewho does not know God and has never seen Him—will see Him unmistakably in us aswe care lovingly for our aging parents. Maybe then we’ll all get a healthierperspective on the real meaning of Christmas:

For God so loved the world, thathe gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but haveeternal life. John 3:16

A blessed Christmas to you and your loved ones – from ourhouse to yours!

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com. Scriptures quoted from ESV unless otherwise indicated.

Help in Choosing Levels of Care

2011-11-29T17:24:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

As you know, I seldom do much here in this blog to promote other websites. But today I'm making an exception ... I was contacted by the editor of a great website that I know you will find useful whenever you need to make difficult choices about living arrangements for your aging loved ones. The site is: http://assistedlivingtoday.com. There you'll find guides to five levels of care: assisted living, memory care, nursing homes, home care, and independent living. If you don't need this today, keep it on file--you may need it tomorrow.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

Thanks for Caregivers!

2011-11-23T11:00:00.001-06:00

You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many. 2 Corinthians 1:11

Treasured Friend

Here in the U.S., we're getting ready to celebrate the national holiday, Thanksgiving. As every chef and one-day-a-year cook knows, it's coming up tomorrow. (I realize and cherish the fact that we have regular readers of this blog in dozens of countries on at least 5 continents--but please do allow me the privilege today of commenting on my culture--I promise if you read on, you'll find something useful for your journey, as well.)

While we may seem to have turned it into the national celebration of gluttony (I just pulled the pumpkin pies out of the oven, as evidence!), the deeper meaning hasn't gotten lost on most of us--that of treasuring and honoring God for His abundant provision on our behalf.

It may not always seem abundant -- but it is. It may show itself in the abundance of love in our households -- or in our greater households of faith. It may show itself in the abundance of strength He provides in His grace and mercy as we work diligently to fulfill our challenging callings.

I'm most thankful this season for the abundant number of people He provides to surround us on the caregiving journey. People who encourage, who uplift, who send messages of comfort and peace, and most importantly who carry this ministry and our little family to God's throne room in prayer regularly.

Just yesterday I received a FB message from a dear friend and colleague who regularly holds us up in prayer. I was hard at work writing my new book, and a little message appeared in the lower corner of my screen -- a lovingly worded reminder that she was praying, right then. Oh, what a blessing that message is--one to keep and cherish and re-read any day I feel alone on the journey. And what a powerful reminder it gave me of the close connection we can establish with each other (even across long distances and many miles) through the power of prayer.

That's what caused me to choose as my Scripture of Thanksgiving this year, the one from 2 Corinthians 1 that you read above. It talks about the help prayer provides to the recipient, and the blessing it reflects back on the pray-ers. All of this because of the One to Whom the prayers are directed--our loving God and Father, in the name of His Son Jesus Christ.

So, whether you're the caregivee or the caregiver -- or someone on the margins, holding up those doing the hard work of caring for aging loved ones, I challenge you to take Paul's strong request to heart. Choose at least one caregiver whom you know and hold her regularly -- early and often (like we're said to vote here in Chicago) -- before God's throne in meaningful prayer. She won't be the only one sharing in the blessings as God sees fit to answer your prayer. You'll be the recipient of more blessings than you could even imagine.

Oh, and if you're looking for other ways to support and encourage your favorite caregiver, check out my practical article, Priceless Gifts for Caregivers: http://issuu.com/julie-allysonieron/docs/priceless_gifts_for_caregivers.

A blessed and happy Thanksgiving to all. I thank my God every time I pray for you.

Blessings and prayers,Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Sources of Respite

2011-11-16T11:46:00.001-06:00

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands! Psalm 90:17 (ESV)

Treasured friend,

Occasionally, I pass along to you information about sites and resources where you can find continued encouragement and refreshment in the caregiving journey. Recently, I received a message on my Facebook caregivers page (http://www.facebook.com/#!/OverwhelmedCaregivers) from a fellow FB page on a similar topic. After checking out their offerings, I commend their site to you: http://www.caregivervillage.com.

Here's what their executive vp Sharon K. Brothers, who has worked in senior care for three decades, has to say about the site:

The work of a caregiver is hard. It’s exhausting much of the time. You don’t earn a medal for doing it – you should, by the way – but you’re also doing something that’s an even greater achievement than completing a marathon. You’re giving of yourself: your time, your energy, your work. And you’re doing it selflessly.

In Caregiver Village (www.caregivervillage.com), a virtual community that is filled with family caregivers caring for people with all kinds of problems, the hard work of family caregivers is celebrated. Tips, suggestions and tools to reduce the stress of caregiving abound in the Village. Even more importantly, caregivers share their stories through journaling and in group discussions, giving each other help with problems, support and encouragement.

There’s even a game to give caregivers a break while they follow the travails of Cara and her friends, learning along with them how to better manage some of the tasks and stress they encounter along the way.

So, then, as always I encourage you first to go to God's Word and to Him personally in prayer--for courage and strength equal to your task; next go to real people in your life (loved ones, church family, fellow caregivers) for nurture and support; and finally use resources like my caregiving handbook (http://www.joymediaservices.com/jms2011golive_004.htm), our blog and Brothers' Caregiver Village to help equip you for this journey into honoring your elders in a way that honors your Lord.

Blessings and prayers,Julie

2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron

God, why don’t You step in and do something?

2011-11-09T12:53:00.000-06:00

Treasured friend,

If you’ve ever had troubleunderstanding why the loving God you serve with all your heart would wait to answer your prayers—or fail toact on your behalf—then this week’s observations are especially for you.

God, do You see me flailing about in the dark waters,about to drown?

God, have You forgotten that I’m out here?
God, do You care?

How often do we, in any darknight of the soul, whisper prayers of desperation like these? And when it isour loved one suffering, and we know God couldhelp, He could bring healing or comfortor energy or strength or courage or victory, but we feel Him only from afar andthen He chooses not to act—it is then especially that we are susceptible todiscouragement, to faltering faith, to stumbling into despair.

Oh, my flawed, human heart,how it longs to understand the mysteries of God and yet how blind it is to Hisreal activity, His real purposes that are so much grander, so far superior towhat I think ought to be.

Musings like these led me toa familiar passage in the Gospel of John—a passage whose meat I’ve been quickto pass by, instead rushing on to the dessert of the eventual answered prayer.It’s the story of the death of Lazarus. Notice, I said the death and not the raising.For if we skip too soon to the end of the story, we’ll miss a key lesson aboutthe way God works so often in our lives. Or at least that’s what I’d been doingfor so long.

As I read, I keyed in on atroubling series of two verses—troubling, because it blows out of the waterevery preconception I have about how God’s love ought to operate. Check it outin John 11:5-6:

NowJesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.
So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the placewhere he was. (ESV)

In the Greek it’s evenstronger. That word we translate as now,actually is a transition word that’s more like “on the contrary.” As in: youmight think this sounds contrary to what’s true, but for sure Jesus loved theLazarus family. And the phrase he stayedis a two-word phrase that means something like he really stayed. As in: you might be incredulous, here, but Iassure you it’s true when I tell you he stayed put for two days. (We lose somuch in our bland English language!)

Because (really?)Jesus loved these three, He waited far away from them and let events unfoldthat they found dismaying, grieving, absolutely inconsistent with theirprevious relationship with Him. How could He do this to them, of all people—they’d fed Him, hosted Him in their home,offered friendship and service and attentiveness. They’d believed in Him. And this was how He repaid them? They sent word toHim in faith believing, and instead, they got a Master who stayed away and letthe enemy of death have its say in their lives.

Ouch! I feel their pain, don’tyou? It may be the enemy of death or unemployment or financial worries orhealth concerns or pained relationships. Whatever it is in your life, you may justbe in a season when the Master isn’t doing anything to resolve it.

Or … so it seems.

But scoot back one verse, andHe actually explains that this isgoing to happen and why this is goingto happen (before it does!) I like the way the NASB renders Jesus’pre-explanation: “This sickness is notto end in death, but for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may beglorified by it” (John 11:4).

Anyone who was trulylistening to the Master would have heard that the end of the matter wasn’t whatit seemed. There was a higher purpose involved here, one of ultimate intent—onethat would do what God deems so important—show His hand at work, bring glory toHimself, and draw hearts to trust Him. (Don’t believe me? Skip down to v. 45: “Therefore many of the Jews who came toMary, and saw what He had done, believed in Him.”

So, my grieving, exhausted,in-need-of-reassurance friend, God loves you. And it may be that because of that love, He’s workingbehind the scenes on your behalf—on a project that will not only bring ultimategood to you, but ultimate glory to Him.

Take comfort, treasured one,in the knowledge that just because you don’t feel Him near, God isn’t at allsurprised or unwilling to act on your behalf. He’ll do it—His way, in His time.I see it in the story of Lazarus and his sisters—and I’ve seen it in obviousevidence recently in my own situation. Take it from Lazarus and Martha andMary, take it from the apostle John—and if you must, take it from me—because Heloves you, He will intervene on your behalf. Hang on with all that’s in youuntil He does.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

The Gospel Truth

2011-10-26T20:06:00.004-05:00

Treasured friend,

A few months ago, our church (The Orchard Evangelical Free Church) hosted a Saturday morning seminar. Dad was doing well that day, so Mom and I were able to get away for the morning -- and we enjoyed the event together. One major chunk of the morning was dedicated to creating the "talking points" outline of our personal journeys of faith. The assignment was to go home and flesh out the outline into a brief story we could share when someone is open to hearing about how we came to trust Christ for ourselves.

We made it a mother/daughter project to complete our stories. And, once we shared them with each other, we realized that each of us was part of the other's faith story.

So often in the dailyness of caregiving responsibilities, it's tempting to lose sight of the bigger reality. We found this exercise to be one that helped us refocus on the main thing--the fact that we have come to know, individually, from years of experience that God loves us, Christ died for us and lives in heaven waiting for us, and the Holy Spirit of God is interceding for us every moment of our challenging journeys.

With that in mind, Mom gave me permission to share her story with you, alongside mine. We'll start with hers--since she's older (don't tell her I said that!).

Joy's Story

When I came to a real relationship with God –

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, forit is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes. Romans 1:16(ESV)

Asa 7-year-old I came to Christ in a worship service; the children’s minister ofthe church where my father preached led me in a prayer of admitting my sins andasking Jesus to forgive me. But as I grew, I only had a "fear" of God-- of displeasing Him. I know I loved Him, but I showed it by making sureexternally I did all the right things that my church said to do, and stayedaway from all the wrong (worldly) things my church said a Christian shouldn’tdo. Something was still missing from the vibrant relationship I somehow knewwas available to me.

WhenI was a teen, our church held a revival series over several months. And as Iattended night after night I felt somehow touched by Christ—closer to Him thanI’d felt before. Having more of a desire to please Him than a fear ofdispleasing Him.

I continuedto see evidence of God's hand over me throughout the years. When John and Imarried we were careful to live a godly life. He read the Bible to me eachevening; over the course of the years, I can’t tell you how many times we wentthrough the entire Bible together in that way. We shared our testimony of Jesuswhenever we had the opportunity. But I always wished I had a more systematicand complete understanding of God’s Word.

Fastforward to when God blessed John and me with a child. I really got seriousabout spiritual things – read the Bible to Julie every morning in language shecould understand. I got into the Word for myself now and I couldn't get enoughof it. So I began attending three Bible studies each week, along with otherChristian events where that hunger was being satisfied. Now my faith reallybegan to grow. I began to realize the great privilege of prayer—of deepcommunication with the God Who loved me and gave His only Son for me. It beganto be more about relationship with Him, getting to know everything I couldabout Him—rather than being motivated by fear. I started to see my daughter’sexcitement about knowing Christ for herself—and we grew together. It amazed mehow deepening relationship with Christ and His Word made a difference in myrelationships with my husband and daughter, too.

Duringthat time I became one of five women in a gospel singing group. We traveled theMidwest, singing and sharing our stories of faith in various churches anddenominations, some of whom I know didn't understand why our faith was soimportant to us, and that Jesus meant everything to us. But once I found Christfor myself -- not my parents - not my husband - not my daughter -- BUT Jesuswas for me, I couldn’t help but tell others what I’d found in Him. So, at manyof our concerts I had the privilege of sharing this story of faith and ofleading the audience in a prayer that could start each of them on their ownpersonal journeys with the God of the Word.

Morethan a far-away God, Christ became my companion - Savior -Lord of my Life - Iwouldn't have lived it any other way.

Jul's Story
Go Tell Jesus You're Sorry

If we confess our sins, he is faithfuland just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1John 1:9 (ESV)

Onecommand from my mother became the initiator of my one-on-one relationship withGod and His Son Jesus. The command came on one of many days when I had sassedback at her. (Come to think of it, she must have given that same commandoften during my childhood) I wasn't a particularly naughty child, rathercompliant, actually, but my mouth was just a little quicker than my mind--and Iwasn't able to edit it all back. So I sassed. Again. And Mom got that lookon her face: "Go to your room. And don't come out until you've told Jesusyou're sorry."

Now,I must tell you I was a churched kid. I knew all the stories about Jesus andHis taking little children in His arms to bless them. I knew He was God's Sonborn on Christmas who died on Easter to pay for the sins and shortcomings ofpeople. Yes, I knew enough about Him to do what she was asking me to.

So,I stormed off to my room. The door hadn't even closed yet when my tender littleheart broke--because I knew I was guilty. I'd sassed. No doubt about it. Andsassing made God sad--just like lying or disobeying my parents or any number of"little" sins my little heart had committed.

With that crushing sadness,I crunched up in a little ball on the floor, in the two-foot space between mybed and dresser. And I said, "Jesus, I'm sorry. I know I was wrong. Ididn't mean to do it, but I did. Please forgive me. I want to be in Yourfamily--so please make me like You--and in case I do it again in the future--Iprobably will!--I don't want it to keep me from heaven."

Thattender-hearted moment was the kernel that started my life-long journey towardknowing Jesus as my forgiver and the One I've asked to be in charge of my life.

Fiveor six years later, when I was a totally mature 8 years old, I wanted to be sure Ihad it all lined up just right, so I walked down the aisle of a church inFlorida when a preacher offered an invitation for anyone who wanted to be God'schild. I knew I wanted that--so when he prayed, I agreed along with him. God,I'm a sinner (remember that sassing?). God I could never be good enough on myown to meet your perfect standard. But Jesus was perfect. And He loved meenough to lay down His perfect life as payment for my sin. I ask You to applyHis payment to my account. And make me Your child. Take over my life and leadme."

Thosemay not have been the exact words, but they were the gist of it. When I went tocollege and my faith was tested by friends and even professors, I was stillabsolutely convinced that God exists and Jesus made this way for me toheaven--where I can know I'll be with Him one day.

Inall the years between then and now (never mind how many there have been) I havedone my best to learn to know Him better. He has called me to a full-timeministry of writing and speaking His truth to audiences I get to see face toface (in person, on TV, and listening by radio/internet) and readers incountless countries around the world—most of whom I may never meet. Through mybooks and articles, I get to share the good news of the gospel to those whodon’t yet know my Jesus. And I get to encourage (even challenge) those who doknow Him to deepen their relationships with Him through studying His Word infresh ways.

But,ministry calling aside, He's been my friend, my confidante, my forgiver, and mylife-planner (Lord) all these years. I knew way back then that He could betrusted with my little heart. So, now as a long-time believer, I can say alongwith the apostle Paul, “I know whom I have believed and I am convinced that Heis able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day” (2 Timothy 1:12; NASB).

Mom and I hope our sharing these stories with you accomplished two goals:

1) If you have been considering Christ's claims, we pray that our stories will show you the path to your own personal relationship with God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

2) If you have your own story of faith, we pray that you'll take the time to write it down, so you can both see how God has proven Himself faithful to you and then go tell others that amazing news.

Oh, and if either (or both) of those apply to you, drop us a line and let us know. We'll keep it to ourselves if you like. Or, even better, we'd love it if you'd post it here to encourage others to do the same.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron, Joy Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Joy Comes to the CCU

2011-10-14T20:54:00.000-05:00

A joyful heart is good medicine. Proverbs 17:22 (ESV)

And Sarah said, “God has made laughter for me.” Genesis 21:6 (ESV)

Treasured friend,

I just shared with my friend Rhonda, whose dad is recovering from bypass surgery, a memory from my own dad's bypass.

You need to find the funny even in the really bad times, or you'll go nuts. With that in mind ...

Dad was in CCU after his bypasses with tubes coming out of everywhere and his hands restrained; we were appalled at how he looked. Fortunately there are no mirrors in CCU, so he didn't know how bad it was.

He couldn't talk, of course, because of the ventilator and feeding tubes. He was clearly feeling miserable in every square inch of his shrinking frame.

Someone--the night nurse, I think--taught him how to communicate by spelling out words in the air--rather Helen Keller-like. One of the first times he was awake when we got our 5 minutes per hour to spend with him (that's the limit for visits in CCU), he kept spelling out S-K-R-A-C-H in the air with his finger; then he'd grab for my hand. When I reached to hold his hand, he'd push it away a little and weakly scratch the back of it.

It took a while. But we finally figured he thought he had been scratched. Feeling like the mom of a toddler, I tried to sooth him. 'It's okay, Dad. I know a scratch hurts, but it'll go away.' With all his grave wounds, a 'skrach' didn't seem like a big deal. You had to love the spelling, though -- those drugs in surgery certainly do a number on the thinking centers. (To think this was the man who taught me to spell!)

He couldn't be stopped, though. The air spelling continued--with great flourish on the K. And each time, he grew more insistent and more frustrated.

Finally, the nurse who had taught him this rudamentary communication interpreted for us: he wanted us to scratch his head -- he had an itch.

Even in the bleakest moments, a ray of hope often comes in the form of a good chuckle. May the Lord bring one of those into your life today! Even years later, this story still ripples a round of laughter through our little circle.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

The Waiting Game

2011-10-04T11:14:00.001-05:00

But those who wait upon GODget fresh strength. Isaiah 40:31 (MSG)

Treasured friend,

Patience may be a virtue, butit’s not one of mine. Yet the Bible's wisdom literature (Psalmsand Ecclesiastes, in particular) have a lot to say about this virtue of waiting—especiallyof waiting patiently for the Lord to intervene on our behalf.

It could be in the big stuff—orthe daily stuff. We know enough of our God to know He is aware and He standswaiting, too. He waits beside us and in us, ready to act on our behalf.

Today, I’m thinking aboutpatience, because this moment while I write three of my caregiving friends arewaiting for the big stuff. They sit numbly expecting news of theoutcome of their parents’ heart tests and surgeries. One is physically sittingin her office at work, at her desk, looking like all is normal—except it isn’t, because her heart is in another state,anxiously awaiting word from family members who are nearby as her father's life is in the heart-surgeon’s hands. The others are, like Mom and I have been somany times over so many years, sitting stiffly in the plastic chairs of thehospital waiting room, sipping burned coffee from Styrofoam cups without evennoticing the acrid flavor, blankly flipping frizzled magazine pages, andstealing furtive glances toward OR doors that sport the menacing warning: No Admittance Beyond ThisPoint. Waiting room attendants know not to make eye contact with waitees—becausethis is a time of introspection, of fear, of coming face to face with theunknown. There’s nothing any other person, however trained or empathetic, canreally do for the waitees in those moments. Nothing except pray, which is what I'm doing for each of these friends today.

There are no guarantees.Actually, there is one guarantee—if the rapture doesn’t come in the mean time,all of us will face this moment—both with our loved ones and for ourselves—and theoutcome won’t be what our humanness wants to hear.

In our waiting room timeswith Dad, we’ve been so relieved to see a smiling surgeon emerge with a smuglook of his having cheated eternity on Dad’s behalf—at least for now. But, Ican remember once while we were waiting for Dad, some church friends were sitting beside us—and their news from the surgeon wasn’t nearly so good.

I suppose that’s what makesthe wait so long—and the dependence on our God so great. I love the way EugenePeterson paraphrases the familiar Scripture above: wait upon God … get fresh strength. It’s so vibrant. And so direct.Strength to face whatever. Strength from the hand and nature of a loving God. Justknowing God knows and cares and supports and loves us through these times isimmeasurably strengthening. And His strength, like the living water of life He offers at our salvation, is limitless—fresh—sweet.

In case you have a waitingroom in your future—or in your day, today—I’d like to share a list ofScriptures that mean something to me in those hours. I gleaned this particularlist from a book called “Treasury” that comes with my WORDsearch Bible Softwarelibrary. (Every verse in the ESV translation has similar lists of other times its keytopics appear throughout both Testaments.) It’s a treasure I’ve discovered onlyrecently—and hope it brings you comfort, joy—and yes, especially strength—today:

Isa8:17 — I will wait for the LORD… and I will hope in him.

Isa25:9 — It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we havewaited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited forhim; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”

Isa30:18 — Therefore the LORD waits to be gracious to you, and therefore heexalts himself to show mercy to you. For the LORD is a God of justice; blessedare all those who wait for him.

Ps25:3 — Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame

Ps25:5 — Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of mysalvation; for you I wait all the day long.

Ps25:21 — May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you.

Ps27:14 — Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; waitfor the LORD!

Ps40:1 — I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry.

Ps123:2 — Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master,as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look tothe LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us.

La3:25 — The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seekshim.

La3:26 — It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of theLORD.

Ro8:25 — But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

1Th1:10 — and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead,Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.

Take a few moments, if you would, to meditate on each of those truths, one by one. Several have becomeespecially meaningful to me as I've done that. Here's what jumped out at me: None who wait forthe Lord will be ashamed … the Lord inclines to and answers our cries … our Godwill have mercy on us … the Lord is good to the soul who seeks Him … we may notsee it, but we can hope in patience—and assurance.

And the best of all, the onethat gives real strength to every believer in the waiting room …the reminder ofthat last verse from 1 Thessalonians: this isn’t all there is. We wait, morethan anything, for the Son of God, once dead and now alive forever more, todeliver us once and for all and carry us into His eternal kingdom—more alivethan we’ve ever been, and in perfect health from that moment throughouteternity.

So, my waiting friends, Ipray for you today, that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ wouldgrant you peace and grace in your anxious times—and renewed assurance that thislife, in its entirety, is only a dim and slim moment in light of a gloriouseternity.

I pray for you and your loved ones the assurance of salvation that comes from placing your faith in Jesus Christ's sacrifice of His own life on Calvary--to pay for all of our sins: yours, theirs and mine. If you have trusted in His death and resurrection on your behalf, you will indeed find fresh strength in your waiting room--because the Lord of Heaven and Earth calls you His very own child and promises to be with you always.

Take courage, my friend. Take courage!

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

We Are Not Abandoned

2011-09-23T10:47:00.003-05:00

At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me ... The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

2 Timothy 4:16-18 (ESV)

Treasured friend,

In my personal devotions for the past several weeks, I've been focusing my attention on Paul's words to his spiritual son, Timothy, spoken with intensity and tenderness and challenge in the letter we call 2 Timothy. Toward the close of this book--which was written toward the close of Paul's life (rather like the changing of the guard)--the Scripture quoted above captivated me. I suppose that's partially because, as you and I both know, so often we caregivers feel exactly like Paul did.

All deserted me, is what he wrote. I'm in this alone--is what he felt.

Now, it's true that Paul was being dragged in chains into the venues of pagan magistrates--so, truly his plight was more immediately life-threatening than ours. But the emotion he expressed is so often the same as we experience in our daily drudgery.

Which of us, in the middle of the most intense caregiving seasions, hasn't felt what Paul is expressing here? I'm here--and all the people who said they'd stand with me are somewhere else. For some, helping me was too challenging--too saddening, so they went away. For some, other priorities drew them elsewhere--to their own work. For others--and this is the worst--my tragic predicament may even bring an opportunity to wring their hands in glee, as they stand by and watch me dangle here on the precipice of despair.

That's the situation Paul paints for us. He, the great apostle of faith, experienced the depths of discouraging abandonment. I don't know about you, but that makes me snap to attention to discover how he made sense of it and how he found the strength to hold onto faith in the midst of it. I want to know--because down deep that's how I want to face my day today.

First, he forgave and prayed for those who deserted him. Don't let God hold this against them, he prayed. Sounds a lot like Jesus on the cross: Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they're doing. Come to think of it, Jesus felt that same abandonment--our same abandonment--as He prayed in Gethsemane and hung on the cross. We couldn't find two better examples to follow.

It's tempting to soothe my hurt feelings by harboring bitterness against those who ought to be a help and even moreso those who have become hindrances instead. But the apostle (and Christ before him) would have none of that. Because that would lead to wallowing--and perhaps even to sin if I allow it to take root. Let this sin against me go, God. Don't count it against their account. It takes some serious spiritual strength to pray that prayer.

Then, Paul turned his attention toward a greater truth than what he could touch with his hands or see with his eyes or hear with his ears: I may have looked alone. I may have felt alone. But I was never alone--because the most important One of all was with me. Not only with me, but standing shoulder-to-shoulder beside me, accompanied by His vast throngs of warriors. And in His mere presence, He gave me the strength and courage and energy and ability I needed. I know it came from Him--because in myself I was empty, but at once I found myself strong enough to endure. I've been there, too, finding a resevoir of strength--and wisdom--at my disposal, with no earth-based explanation of how it got there. Yes, we may feel alone, but for the Christian, we can place our life-grip firmly on Christ's promise, I will never leave you nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5).

Finally, Paul looked ahead at the outcome he knew to be true, even if it was absolutely hidden from his sight in that moment: God's still greater than my circumstance. He promised He'd get me out of this and set me firmly into my home in His heavenly kingdom. I know that to be true. So, I'll hold to that promise in faith--and bring Him praise and glory right now. That's what I will do. And I'll continue to do it until my faith becomes sight.

I hope and pray that Paul's example has strengthened your resolve, as it has mine. Our challenge is to place our eyes on the God Who is with us and in us--and press on into our day. You may feel alone, as may I, but we're not alone--not by a longshot!

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

When You Weep

2011-09-13T10:58:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

Jeremiah—I’ve always heldthis particular prophet of the Most High God in the highest esteem. In fact, ifyou asked me who my favorite Bible characters are, Jeremiah would be up therein the top ten. For sure.

Surprised? Let me tell youwhy.

God called Jeremiah as ayoung man (we who think of him at all often remember him as a scraggly beardedold man thrown in a pit by a jealous and angry king’s henchmen—but in the firstchapter of his prophetic book, he is the young son of a priest). Not only didGod call Jeremiah, but He chose for this tenderhearted youngster a mightydifficult road. One that would cause the prophet’s heart to break time and timeagain over the lot of God’s people in an era of great terror—an era when thenation would be overrun with enemies because of the people’s grievous sin.

Being faithful to thiscalling would overwhelm Jeremiah to the point that he would be remembered toposterity as the weeping prophet.

I can relate to a weepingprophet. I can relate to heartbreak—especially the heartbreak of watching those I love suffer. Inour cases, as caregivers of our aging parents, the suffering is a result of thenormal scheme of life on this fallen planet. No matter—the emotional exhaustionof the tragic circumstances we can’t control too often sends us off to a pit of weeping everybit as deeply as Jeremiah.

But it isn’t just Jeremiah’sweeping that grabs me and won’t let go. It’s the words God spoke to and throughhim that speak to me. God didn't fault the prophet's frequent questions of, are You sure about this God? Did You really mean for this to befall Your people? (Sound like any of your prayers? Could be some of mine on nearly any day of the week.) Instead, God spoke calm and comfort to the prophet--counter-cultural calm and comfort. Comfort that sustained the prophet through moments when the storms of chaos swirled and uprooted his entire world.

So, this morning, I got outone of my old, well-worn, crumble-spined Bibles and scanned the book ofJeremiah for just a few of the words God spoke through the weeping prophet—that have touched my heart and sustained me over the years. I share them withyou in hopes you’ll catch a fresh, reassuring glimpse of the way God is atwork in the most difficult circumstances of your life.

Jeremiah1:7; 9 Butthe LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom Isend you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak.” … ⁹Thenthe LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth. And the LORD said to me,“Behold, I have put my words in your mouth.”

Jeremiah1:19 “I am with you, declares the LORD, to deliver you.”

Jeremiah9:23-24 Thus says the LORD: “Let notthe wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might,let not the rich man boast in his riches, ²⁴but let him who boastsboast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD whopractices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in thesethings I delight, declares the LORD.”

Jeremiah29:12-14 “Then you will call upon meand come and pray to me, and I will hear you. ¹³You will seek meand find me, when you seek me with all your heart. ¹⁴I will befound by you, declares the LORD”.

Jeremiah31:16-17 Thussays the LORD: “Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, forthere is a reward for your work, declares the LORD …¹⁷There is hopefor your future, declares the LORD.”

Jeremiah31:25 “For I will satisfy the wearysoul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.”

So, my caregiving compatriot,you just heard if from God’s own lips: thereis a reward for your work; there is a hope for your future.

And, even more than that, Iespecially love that last word from Jeremiah 31:25—about how tenderly God saysHe’ll treat the weary and languishing soul. I know weary. So do you. Let’s covenanttogether to take that promise from God into our caregiving tasks today. Let’scommit to each other that every time we feel exhausted and overwhelmed—weary of the journey—we’ll let God knowabout it, at that very instant.

God, I’m weary. Soul weary. You promisedto satisfy and replenish me. Please, do that for me in this exhausting moment. And, I ask Youto do the same for every one of my caregiving friends who are feeling the samefatigue just now.

When God answers your prayer,will you drop me a note to let me know about it? Your gift of refreshment fromHim will be an encouragement and uplift to me.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

Why Does God Allow ...?

2011-09-01T08:33:00.001-05:00

What kind of a God wouldn’t do something about this awfulnessin my life?

Why doesn’t God do what I want Him to do?

Why doesn’t God answerme?

Why should I have faith in a God Who doesn’t give me what I want?

Whyshould I even think God is out there at all?

Treasured Friend,

Standing by while those we love suffer causes our fragile hearts to formthis litany of questions. That's natural. Yet left unchecked, they’ll lead us down a slipperyslope. Don't believe me? See if you recognize the slide in this story:

It wasn’t long ago that Ipicked up a bestselling autobiography. The author was young when she prayed ina time of crisis. But God didn’t do what she asked. So she penned the line, “Thatwas the day I lost my faith.” I stuck with the book for a while (although Ihaven’t finished it yet); and as far as I’ve gotten, in several hundred pages anddecades of life, she hasn’t yet seen her faith overcome that tragic loss. Butthat one line has stayed with me, perhaps because of its hopelessly misguidedconclusion.

There’s a problem here. Alack of maturity, I suppose, that’s common to us all. A temper tantrum of sorts,a spoiled child pounding our fists at the heavens and irreverently threatening,If You won’t do what I want, I’m going tomake You suffer. In fact, I’m going to make You downright miserable until Youtire of my hissy fit and give me what I demand. And if You still won't do it, then ... then ... I won't like You anymore! So there! Take that!

What I’ve found is that theproblem of suffering and the questions it causes to arise in our hearts bring to thesurface the human propensity to see the world—and God—as revolving around us,rather than the opposite. The ancients—although they had a less sophisticatedbase of scientific knowledge—had infinitely more wisdom about these things thanwe do. They suffered profusely. God didn’t give them the immediate deliverancethey asked for. Their loved ones suffered, too. But they came to an altogetherdifferent conclusion about God and how He answers prayer.

“When I consider the heavens,the moon and the stars that You created,” David penned, “What is man that Youare mindful of him, or the son of man that You visit him?” (from Psalm 8). Thisfrom the man who saw his camp plundered, his wife and children carried away bythe enemy. And yes, he questioned—but he didn’t throw away his faith with thetragedy. Instead of looking inside himself for the answers, he looked up. Andhe was absolutely amazed—awed—astounded by Whom he saw.

With David, I look around atthis world—my world—and I realize how small I am. In its suffering, its decay,its temporary nature, I see the contrast between myself and God. God’s power isinfinite, mine is insignificant. God’s authority is transcendent; mine is puny.God is eternal, I’m not--I had a beginning, and from this earth's perspective one day soon I'll have an end. It’sreally all about Him, and not nearly so much about me. What a difference thatperspective shift makes in the kinds of questions my heart asks.

Then there’s good old Job andthe line that is packed with the depths of suffering and the heights of faith: “ThoughHe slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15, NKJV). As much as it pains me toadmit it, God is free to do what He wishes with me—and even with my loved ones.He is, because He is the Creator, Sustainer, unrivaled Ruler of the entireuniverse. This is Who He is, whether or not I acknowledge it to be so.

Why doesn’t God do what Itell Him to do? Because He’s God and I’m not. He sees a greater scheme—and holdsa grander plan in the palms of His hands. I play a role in those plans becauseof His great mercy, but my role is small—and the entire production is ever so farbeyond anything that I am.

What does this have to dowith you and the suffering you’re undergoing beside your aging loved one today?When you come to the moment of asking those questions about why God hasn’tgiven you the answered prayer you’ve sought, I pray you come to the sameconclusion as the Psalmist and Job. That conclusion is this: the amazing thingisn’t that you haven’t received what you wanted from God, but rather that theawesome Creator of all things invites you to carry your requests to Him, totrust Him, to know Him. Whenyou come to know Him personally, through His Son Jesus Christ and the SpiritWho lives inside everyone who believes, you will be able to trust Him with theoutcome of events in this tired old world that's all subject to continued decay.

So, voice your questions toyour Creator/Friend, and then say with me, and with old King David, “Oh Lord,our Lord, Your magnificent name transcends the earth and overflows the heavens” (adaptedfrom Psalm 8). This magnificent God is the best answer to any question yourheart could form.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

When My Foot Slips ...

2011-08-24T07:22:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

My FB friend John Simonson posted this Scripture today:

‎"When I thought, "My foot slips," your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul." ~ Psalm 94:18-19

It is so fitting for us, as caregivers, that I wanted it to encourage you today.

I've done something to my wrist and am working one-handed (with my right thumb immobilized in a prescription splint) these days--so I'll keep my comments minimal.

Just meditate on this passage with me today--and be consoled. Oh, and if you think of my folks and me, please keep us in your prayers!

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

2011-08-15T08:54:00.002-05:00

Dear friends, do not be surprised at thepainful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening toyou. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that youmay be overjoyed when his glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:12-13; NIV).

Treasured friend,

I daresay this Scriptureoffers an upside down perspective on caregiving (and the challenges of agingthat our parents are enduring). Don’t be surprised that life isn’t what youexpected, that it isn’t perfect and sweet and without opposition—that aginghappens, and even if you don’t count wrinkles and gray hair, it usually isn’t allthat pretty a picture. But instead of wallowing, count it as anotheropportunity to relate to Christ—and to look toward the joy that awaits us. Heshowed us how as He endured the cross, despising the shame, all for the “joyset before Him” (Hebrews 12:2).

That, I’ve found in recentweeks, is easier preached than accomplished. It’s so much more natural torespond with sullenness to personal setbacks, emotional and physical exhaustion,disappointments in people and circumstances, distressing world conditions. Joy?How can tumbling world markets bring joy? How can broken relationships be asource of rejoicing? How can an injured body make me overjoyed? It would taketoo many lines for me to list off the litany of grievances that have beengetting me down low since I’ve written to you last. And none of them has feltanything near joyful. No, I can’t say I’ve put Peter’s instructions intopractice—at all.

Then again, were thisresponse natural, the apostle wouldn’t have had to instruct believers then—or now—torejoice. The Greek word for rejoicedescribes greeting something with gladness, saluting it with calm happiness. Itcan actually be a salutation—“be well.” Be well, spiritually, when physicallyyou’re not. Be well and at peace knowing this isn’t all there is—that there’s aworld to come that’s absolutely real and utterly fantastic—its finish neverchips or tarnishes, its relationships never end or disappoint, its length isendless--literally. Be well as you remind yourself that the pain of this time and place may be obscuring the truth, butthe heavenly reality is still there, behind the storm clouds that will soon pour themselves outand evaporate.

The key, I suppose, comes inthe last verse of the chapter:

So then, those who suffer according toGod's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue todo good (1 Peter 4:19, NIV).

Trust God—commit it all toHim because, as Paul would say, “He is able to keep what I’ve committed to Himagainst that day” (2 Timothy 1:12). So, get it together, Jul. Continue to dowhat you know is good and right. Don’t look around at others who aren’t livingin holiness and yet seem to be enjoying blessings and a cushy life. Think of theway David put it in the Psalms: “don’t fret because of evildoers” (Psalm 37:1).Instead, the Psalm seems to be the source Peter used. Because its prescription and his are so similar: “Trust in theLord and do good. Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delightyourself in the Lord” (vv. 3-4, NASB). Live where you're living. Do what you know is right and just for you to do as a follower of the Living God. And do it all as service to Him. Then the joy will follow--maybe today, and definitely tomorrow.

It’s a challenge I’m going to make a solid attempt to live up to starting today … how about you?

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

2011-08-03T10:57:00.001-05:00

Treasured Friend,

I want to say a huge thank you to all of you who listened and prayed for me yesterday when I was a guest on the Chris Fabry Live show on Moody Broadcasting Network. I just listened to the podcast—and all the places where I wasn’t sure how to answer caller questions, it was as if God’s Spirit guided the answer—I almost didn’t know where it was coming from. Your prayers … at work. Even the commercial break short programs seemed to fit in with the content of our conversation.

The presentation was one that's relevant to us as caregivers, even in our exhaustion ... returning to our first love. I hope and pray there is both encouragement and challenge in what we said on air.

We had opportunity to tell lots of friends/neighbors who aren't believers about the broadcast -- and if they did indeed listen, they heard the gospel clearly presented. Our continued prayer is that the Lord will work in their hearts to draw them to Himself.

I am grateful for your prayer partnership.

In case you'd like to listen now or later, here's a link to the streaming broadcast online:

http://www.moodyradio.org/radioplayer.aspx?episode=73860&hour=1

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Upcoming Radio Interview with Chris Fabry

2011-07-27T15:26:00.003-05:00

Hi friends,

Hope you'll be able to listen in live on Tuesday, August 2 between 2-3 p.m. Central. I'll be a guest on the nationally broadcast "Chris Fabry Live" radio program. It runs on the MBN radio network (that's 90.1 FM in Chicago) -- and is also available online at moodyradio.org.

Chris is one of the most insightful interviewers -- and we'll be having a great conversation about going deeper in our Christian lives. I think you'll find it energizing, challenging, and encouraging.

Please pray with us, too, that the message will be God-honoring and will touch hearts.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

2011-07-16T21:21:00.003-05:00

Treasured friend,

Way back in the cold snow of winter, I taped the most wonderful hour-long caring for aging parents interview with CAN-TV's Everlasting Love program. Barbara A Karpouzian (host) and Don Albert (producer) gave me permission to post a 10-minute clip on YouTube. So, here 'tis -- for encouragement, challenge, and a closing prayer from my heart to all my fellow caregivers.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qjM-g74LNE&feature=channel_video_title

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2011,

Julie-Allyson Ieron

It Could Be Worse ...

2011-06-27T10:29:00.001-05:00

Treasured friend,

We've had some week in our neck of the woods. Tornadoes. Downed trees and live power lines on the ground. Power outages -- ours lasted 65 hours; a few others in our neighbhorhood went even longer than that. And more storms are on the way today.

I sprained my wrist from pulling the starter on our portable generator (which eventually did generate enough power to keep Dad's meds cool in the fridge and the basement dry). Dad fell and is now limping after missing the bottom stair in the dark (while I was out on the patio trying to start said generator). We moped in darkness for three days and three nights--running short on patience, and shorter on the necessities of life. And we found ourselves wondering how Abe Lincoln studied by candlelight to become a lawyer, and how Noah's wife and daughters-in-law survived cooped up in that dark ark for 40 days and 40 nights.

We decided that none of us would make good (or happy) campers at this stage of our lives. (Come to think of it, when we did camp in our earlier lives, we weren't very happy campers then, either!)

Then we went to church yesterday to find that a dear friend and fellow caregiver suffered a tree through the roof in our same storm--and our predicament didn't seem so bad. Everyone, it seemed, had an equally challenging story to share.

Now that the power is back on, I finally got to scrolling through the endless emails (do you know how many can accumulate in 65 hours??) in my box. Among them I found an ad for this book that apparently is on Oprah's book club list for the summer: Someday This Will Be Funny.

Now, I haven't read the book (probably won't, actually), but the title gave me pause.

What a great way to look at the crises of a week like this one ... someday we'll laugh about this, or at least we won't be crying/fretting/stressing about it anymore. Someday so many of the things I consider major deals today will fade into oblivion and may even be a source of a chuckle or a to-the-bottom-of-the-toes laugh.

I don't see it yet, of course, but I can look in faith to that one day. After all, as the opening line of Hebrews 11 reminds us, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (v. 1; ESV). I have faith that even this series of setbacks--and the many others of a more serious nature that we've experienced in the last year--don't come as a surprise to our loving Father. We can have faith that in all this He is at work. We can have absolute assurance that one day we will sit beside Him, review it all, and see how He worked in it to accomplish the best. We can also have the assurance that from that vantage point in eternity we'll admit (even if grudgingly) that some of it was actually a little funny.

I pray a hearty laugh for you today, no matter what else happens. Please pray the same for me.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

For the grandparents among you ...

2011-06-21T12:11:00.001-05:00

My friend Lydia E. Harris has created a lovely Bible study/devotional book titled Preparing My Heart for Grandparenting. It's published by AMG, and would make a great resource for you or the grandparent you love. It's filled with Scripture, practical suggestions, even activities you can do together. Topics include prayer, being a role model, investing in their lives, listening to joys and tears, making an eternal impact. Lydia tells a wonderful story--as you may know from her other books. If you're a grandparent, or are looking for a gift for a new grandparent, check this book out.

Blessings and prayers, Julie

Job Description: In-home Caregiver

2011-06-10T10:18:00.004-05:00

Treasured friend,

As I’ve been playing the role for a while, I decided a job description for an adult-child caregiver of aging parents could be useful. What I came up with is a list of qualifications that pretty much transfers to any in-home, 24-7-365 caregiving job. It started as I was trying to figure out why I’ve been feeling more overwhelmed than usual—and to bolster myself because I’d been feeling less-than-productive in many areas of my professional life.

See if you have what it takes—or if you recognize your job in this list.

NASCAR driver—must be able to beat all other drivers in the hospital parking garage to the last handicapped parking spot. Why doesn’t a hospital, by definition, create more handicapped spots? I mean really!

Personal chef—microwaving leftover skills a must; defrosting skills helpful—especially understanding the use of the microwave’s defrost function and being able to operate it without assistance.

Patient companion—willingness to sit in an easy chair and watch reruns of Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts without getting frustrated over your own laundry piling up.

Ambassador/diplomat—talent to reestablish emotional calm when service providers try to force the issue of paperless billing, auto-deposit, and online bill-pay.

Psychologist—the ability to guess at what’s behind a loved-one’s question without using Freud’s theories to dig deep and place the blame squarely on one’s parents (counterproductive when dealing with one’s parents).

Translator—ability to take gleaned understanding at the meaning behind the response and explain it to other loved ones, service providers, and medical team.

Legal advisor—uncanny capacity to comprehend legal and medical mumbo-jumbo and translate it into legitimate English—this is a must. Also, a practiced hand at witnessing and signing legal and medical forms.

Banker—aptitude to understand and explain the latest round of hieroglyphics generated by the mega-bank’s computer system; willingness to do same every single time a new report comes in snail mail.

Electronics technician—must possess the skill for resetting all digital clocks on radios, appliances, and the VCR whenever the power blips; also must know everything about computers and satellite TV boxes—and be able to extrapolate exactly how the loved one got to this particular locked-up screen—again!

Medic—must be ready to kiss boo-boos and make them better. Boo-boos include insect bites, stubbed toes, mystery bruises, and test-prick wounds.

Nurse’s aide—required to produce or generate test-prick wounds; must be practiced and convincing at the mantra, “This won’t hurt at all.”

Excel spreadsheet guru—must possess the capacity to rig up makeshift fax system, log (and type accurately) test-prick results, and transmit generated spreadsheet via fax to medical team weekly.

Patient advocate—has the talents of understanding the emotionally charged reactions to diagnoses and reminding the medical team that patient is a person, not a series of test results.

Make-it-all-better specialist—a calming, soothing, understanding, listening attitude is essential!

This is only slightly exaggerated from the tasks we’ve been called on to perform this week. Maybe that overwhelmed feeling isn’t quite so groundless as I’d thought when I woke up this morning.

As I searched The Word for a bit of comfort or assurance, I found this little statement that I’ve glibly quoted in the past. It took on new meaning today—and sounded less flip as it rolled off my fingertips onto the screen: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13; NKJV).

May your list of job qualifications, like mine, always fall into that “all things” category, through Christ our loving, patient, and eminently qualified Lord.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Reminded of the Word of Truth

2011-05-23T22:01:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

This evening I was rereading my April entry – and feeling sheepish as I read. I’ve begun dozens of messages to you, but haven’t gotten far before I was interrupted, needed elsewhere, or otherwise distracted. So, my treasured friend, I offer you my sincere apology.

By way of explanation—but by no means excuse—since I’ve last written to you, our family has sat by several sets of friends, fellow caregivers who have been through the ultimate challenge: watching loved ones decline, then enter the care of hospice, all the while knowing where the path is leading … that the journey of their beloved charges would carry them into eternity with their Lord.

We’ve seen faithful saints who’ve lived a lifetime in God’s service finish the course well—and collect their prize of eternal life. We’ve listened to words of comfort from preachers in services of tearful celebrations, and we’ve come to realize anew the fact that words, even beautiful words out of the Psalms or out of Paul’s writings to the early church, simply can’t express the range of emotions in these most poignant of all human moments.

And yet words are what we have to offer—as we come up against this frustrating reminder of the limitations of our humanity. Words, gentle hugs, tearful eyes, the squeeze of a hand. We’re here. We care. We’re praying. We won’t forget to hold you up in the days ahead.

That’s what we have in our comfort arsenals. That, and the truth of the Word made flesh, Who made His dwelling place among us—Who lived to demonstrate the Creator’s understanding of our pain at the curse of death—and who died to make a way for us to live. The paradox of faith in Christ. It takes dying to live.

When our hearts are torn by death’s separation—His presence seems just a little closer, a little more tangible. And we become a lot more desperate to feel it for ourselves. In those moments we long to be reminded of His promises, the words from His very own mouth—spoken to prepare His loved ones’ hearts for the painful separation from Him that they were about to experience. They then, like we now, didn’t understand what was about to take place, couldn’t see the bigger picture, could only be gripped by panicked and fearful emotions at the prospect of their Lord going to a place they couldn’t immediately follow. And yet, He offered these beautiful words …

“Your heart must not be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if not, I would have told you. I am going away to prepare a place for you. If I go away and prepare a place for you, I will come back and receive you to Myself, so that where I am you may be also. You know the way ⌊to⌋ where I am going.” “Lord,” Thomas said, “we don’t know where You’re going. How can we know the way?” Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:1-6, HCSB).

Over the weekend, I had the privilege of using these words, and others spoken by Christ and expounded on by Paul, to reassure an old friend’s troubled questions about eternity (raised in her heart by the misguided and ill-spoken words of a charlatan Armageddon predictor).

Here is what I told her (and I'm telling you) that I know to be true—because Christ said so--check out His Word for yourself to see whether what I'm telling you is true. Here, then, is what I know: We know the way—the only way—to the place where we will be with Christ … and with our loved ones who have died in Him. The way is so simple that so many of us complicate things, so that others (surely not we ourselves) miss it. The way is clear and direct because Christ made it so.

He faced the recesses of hell Himself. That day on Calvary’s cross He entered death’s domain, He tied up the guardians of hell, and He conquered them once and for all—for every one of us who dares to believe—to ask Him to buy us back from slavery to sin—to apply His life-blood to our sin accounts. This is what He asks us to believe and receive—“If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. … For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:9, 13; HCSB).

Perhaps words are enough to offer after all. Words from the mouth of our Lord, offering comfort and a compassionate challenge—your heart must not be troubled. … I will receive you to Myself. And the words of our own mouths: Lord Jesus, I choose to believe You and receive the free gift of salvation that You paid for on my behalf--with Your blood.

With those words, eternal companionship with our loving Lord opens up for each of us. So that at death's moment, we'll be more alive in Him than we ever were on this earth.That’s what happened to our friends this week. And when it’s our time—well, I can’t speak for you, but as for me, that’s the promise that will carry me through the end of this life and into the promised joys of eternity with Christ. That’s what I’m living for … and what I’ve staked it all to believe.

I pray you have this same assurance in your own heart—for your eternity, and for the eternity of the one you care for today.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A New Name ...

2011-04-18T21:39:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

This evening as I was enjoying the gift of 30 minutes to relax quietly, I turned on a CD containing medleys of hymns and gospel songs. And I was transported to the church where I grew up and to the one I attended during college and grad school. Those were good days--marked by a sweet, sincere faith. Days of putting our hearts into our faith journeys. Both churches leaned toward the holiness traditions, and they were peopled by caring, compassionate believers who took seriously the idea of the family of faith.

I grew up with the hymnal beside the Bible in the pew pockets. And I was enriched by both--because both spoke of the true gospel--and how it works in real life every day.

I learned to harmonize by reading along in the hymnal--and became a strong, confident (and hopefully in-tune) alto in the process. My mind was sharp in those days (that sharpness may just be wasted on the young!)--sharp and absorbant, to mix my metaphors. Because in the repetition of the hymns Sunday after Sunday (certain of the elder folks asked to sing the same songs week after week--as my pre-teen eyes rolled) I not only internalized the truths, but the lyrics--all 4 or 5 verses of them.

My grandfather, in addition to being the preacher/pastor, also was the song leader. You could mark the calendar by the songs he chose. If it was Christmas it was "One Day" -- "One day when heaven was filled with His praises ... Jesus came down to be born of a virgin/lived among men my example to be ..." If it was Easter, it had to be "He Lives," and "Up From the Grave He Arose!" To this day, it isn't truly Easter until I've heard those two songs--even if Mom and I have to play them on organ and violin in our own living room. Will we be playing them next week? You bet!

I didn't realize it at the time, but those hymns along with gospel song lyrics popular in the 1970s, got under my skin--and pierced straight into my heart. And they echoed back to me in the most unlikely moments. Like one Sunday morning I recall at East Side Church of God in Anderson, IN, where I worshipped during college. Our pastor had given a passionate sermon. And, as always, the altars were open to anyone after he was finished. The instruments played quietly, while believers and seekers alike (although I don't think we called them seekers back then) were welcome to pray. There was no altar call or invitation, yet folks left their seats and knelt there for private moments with the Lord. The pastors would come alongside each one, pray for a moment, then move on.

Anyway, this particular Sunday, a buzz swept through the choir loft as the senior pastor whispered something to the choir director. When it made its way to the alto section, I got in on the act. A sinner had made the decision to follow Christ--right there at the altar on that ordinary Sunday morning. And the pastor wanted to celebrate by singing "A New Name in Glory." But no one knew the words.

Who knew all those years of brother or sister so-and-so calling that song number would come in handy? I tapped into my brain's computer and pulled out the words (first verse and chorus thank-you-very-much!). I started scribbling them on the back of an offering envelope--barely finishing as the organist struck up the intro. "I was once a sinner but I came, pardon to receive from my Lord ... There's a new name written down in glory/and it's mine! Oh, yes, it's mine!"

There was a party that morning at East Side's altar, accompanied by a joyfully sung rendition of C. Austin Miles' lyric that might even give the angels a run for their money. I can't remember ever finding that song as meaningful as that morning--because it was so timely--so relevant--so real. Someone I knew, who shopped in the same grocery and probably washed his clothes at the same Laundromat--was born again to new life, eternal life in Christ--that day, before my eyes.

It was one of the songs that played on my CD collection tonight. And it transported me back. To the sweetness of a sinner's name being written in glory while the angels (and the saints) sang joyfully to celebrate a soul coming home. And it put my tough day into a more productive perspective. So little of what I do--and what troubles me--will make it into eternity; precious little of the grousing I do ("No, Dad, you're diabetic so you can't have a chocolate cherry!" "No crackers with your soup, or I'll have to give you another insulin shot!" "Don't jerk your hand away when I'm trying to get a prick for your blood test!") has any significance, relatively speaking, when put alongside a sinner asking Jesus Christ to take her sins away through His shed blood on Calvary.

I'm glad Jesus gives us this glimpse into eternity, something to cling to in the everyday. Because He does open paradise for sinners (our pastor preached on that yesterday morning, in the second of Christ's statements from the cross, when Jesus said to the thief hanging at His side: "Truly, today you'll be with me in paradise" Luke 23:43). And the angels do rejoice when a lost sinner receives Christ's gift of salvation (Luke 15:10: "I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents" NIV).

By remembering this fact that's more real and more substantial than anything I can touch or do on this earth, I am reenergized and refocused to take on another day.

I hope and pray you are, as well.

By the way ... in case you'd like to hear this song played or read its lyric, I found a site online that plays a simple arrangement of it and includes all the lyrics--and they're not even scribbled on the back of an offering envelope!: http://my.homewithgod.com/heavenlymidis2/newname.html

Enjoy!

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Rattling Pans

2011-03-29T15:53:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

A while back I sat through a friend’s wedding – another friend’s wedding. The second in as many weeks. This is not an easy feat for an over-40 solo woman whose marital status has outlived the rise and fall of four church single adult groups (due to the pairing up of all the singles into couples).

As I say, such was my circumstance that weekend. Sitting in the third row watching with tears of joy (and a not little melancholy) as another single friend gave herself away to her new mate. Reading the program, I was not surprised that she had chosen to have the infamous 1 Corinthians 13 read during her ceremony. Why does every bride choose that Scripture? I asked myself. I suppose it’s safer than the 1 Timothy section on submission; but still …

I put my brain on cruise control as the words rolled off the reader’s tongue. “Love is patient. Love is kind. …” Yada, yada, yada. Heard it before. Memorized it. Nothing new there. I may have even stifled a yawn.

Six days later I found myself in my music room, scrubbing away at my new cello (I was teaching myself to play--a task I've more recently classified as hopeless!) accompanied by my patient mother on the electric keyboard. We’d found that playing old favorites out of the hymnal (only those in appropriate keys) was about all the challenge I could handle on that instrument, so we were playing hymn 664, “Sweeter as the Years Go By.”

My scrubbing arm grew tired, so I dropped out as mom continued on to another song, on another page. Since my arm was too tired to lift itself and turn the page I allowed my eye to traverse 665. Six sixty-five, it turned out, was a reading. The title caught my eye and grabbed my attention. “The Character of a Christian.” Hmm. I’ve written a few things about character—namely a book titled Staying True in a World of Lies.

As I wrote that book several years ago and revised it last year, I searched the Scriptures for appropriate passages that addressed the subject of character or integrity. And I found many – mostly in the wise old book of Proverbs. So, as I considered 665, I found myself more than a little anxious to see what Scripture the editors had chosen to fit that intriguing title.

Just then I saw the reference at the bottom of the page. It read simply, “From 1 Corinthians 13.” Ugh. Lemme alone. Go away. Don’t they know the Apostle Paul most certainly penned those words just to be read at wedding ceremonies in the 21st century? What does love have to do with character?

But then, I read the list. It was written in a different translation than any I’d encountered before – and it was most certainly abridged – but it contained all the key ingredients of the chapter. Perhaps it was the late hour. Perhaps the newness of a different translation. Whatever it was, I suddenly realized that alongside our integrity, our truth, our unity of thought, word and deed that I wrote about in Staying True, there is another principle that is just as crucial in all our interactions with the secular world – whether at work, in the marketplace of ideas, in our churches, or (yes) in our homes and while we're busy about our caregiving duties.

And that principle is one that cannot fail without devastating consequences. Without it I am, according to the hymnal’s editors, a “rattling pan.”

That principle is love. Not the mushy stuff of wedding day kisses and for-the-camera smiles. But love. Like God’s love. Pure, unselfish, patient, and holy.

Here, in The Message paraphrase, is a repackaging of the key principles found in 1 Corinthians 13:1-7:

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.

If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.

Love doesn't strut,

Doesn't have a swelled head,

Doesn't force itself on others,

Isn't always "me first,"

Doesn't fly off the handle,

Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn't revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

In those moments, as mom’s melodious notes played on, I knew--I don't want to be a rusty gate or a rattling pan--especially not in God's eyes and ears. So, my continuing lesson was to be love. Not necessarily a marriage kind of love (although I certainly wouldn’t rule that out), but more likely a lovingness that pervades everything else I do and say – and everything I think.

“By this shall all men know that you are my disciples,” Jesus said, “if you have love one for another” (John 13:35). This loving action – or interaction – with each other inside the faith, as well as those not yet in the faith – is the mark of a true believer. But it isn't easy and certainly doesn't come naturally--not by any stretch of the imagination.

I'm taking this new-old challenge to heart this week--and I pray in it you'll hear God's voice prompting you, as well. May my life, no matter how frustrating, challenging, angering, or debilitating--be best summed up in the word love.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

You're Famous! Okay, not famous, but notable ...

2011-03-21T16:29:00.000-05:00

Okay -- this is royally cool! Anderson University alumni magazine, Signatures, did a cover feature on blogging -- and featured this devotional blog and its author (namely, me!). Here's a link, you might enjoy following http://www.anderson.edu/signatures/winter11/article.html. I've already begun hearing from old college friends (who're you callin' old?) about it.

Blessings and prayers, Julie © 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Hold Fast in Love

2011-03-07T09:33:00.001-06:00

Treasured Friend,

I’ve been AWOL for a couple of weeks – perhaps you noticed (I hope you noticed!). But it was for a good cause. If you’ve read my caregiving book or even these devotional posts for very long, you know I preach, “Caregiver care for yourself.” I preach it, but I seldom apply its wisdom to my life. This time, I did—sent along by my wonderful parents, who insisted on it. They saw how stressed I had been, even if I was trying to ignore it.

My colleague and friend Lin Johnson offered to share her timeshare condo on Kauai. I wasn’t going to accept. Dad hadn’t been doing well, but then during one of his hospitalizations, he grabbed my arm, pulled me down to bed-level, and said, “You’re going to Hawaii. You deserve it. We’re sending you!” Month by month, Dad improved, and by the time the trip came around, he was doing well and it was safe for me to go.

It was a refreshing time in oh so many ways. For one, since it was such an extreme change of scenery, I came back, shall we say, far more patient, far less on-edge. That alone made it worthwhile.

Lin and I have traveled together before – and while we spend a good deal of time sightseeing together, back at the condo we take to neutral corners and read quietly. In my corner (looking out over our beach in the town of Lihue--I've included a link if you want to see a few pictures!), I had my netbook computer loaded with the WORDsearch program. A good chunk of my time, then, I spent in prayer and fellowship with the Lord. It’s hard not to feel Him near in the midst of all that created beauty—the Creator’s handiwork at perhaps His most creative and vibrant.

I felt His prompting to study Psalm 91. I don’t do deep studies of the Psalms often. Perhaps it’s because their poems so often are a believer’s conversation toward God, rather than God’s conversation toward us. I gravitate toward those places in Scripture where God speaks. “I know the plans I have for you,” He tells Jeremiah. “I will never leave you,” the writer of Hebrews quotes. I long to hear His voice—and I hear it best when He’s quoted. That’s just the way I am.

But this time, I dug into Psalm 91, as I said. I was humming along, reading as if I knew what was coming next. Then I stopped short on verse 14, which is placed in quotes (God is speaking. Listen up, Jul.) “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name” (ESV). And somehow, I didn’t feel the need to focus on the deliverance or protection part—but I felt a pained prick on that first phrase. How does one hold fast to God in love? I spent my devotional time over the next eleven days examining that phrase.

My first hopscotch led me to Revelation 2:4, where Jesus is speaking to the church in Ephesus. He’s telling them that they’ve done everything right. They’ve proved the spirits of false teachers, hated what He hates. They’re in good stead. Except for one thing. And it’s the biggie. They’ve failed at the loving God thing. “But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.” Or, as the older translations put it, left your first love.

What does that look like? What does it mean? My commentaries weren’t too particular in explaining it, as if we all know what leaving our first love looks like. But obviously the Ephesian believers weren’t aware of it, so it couldn’t be that obvious.

I checked my Greek and Hebrew resources and found that in the Psalm, the verb used meant being attached to and delighting in. It’s a binding love. It’s the way God attached Himself to His people; and it’s the way He attaches us back to Him.

In the Greek I consulted Strong’s and a few other dictionaries and found that the term Jesus used in Revelation talked about not just our growing a little cool in our feelings toward Him. Rather it means we’ve sent Him away, omitted Him and replaced Him with something else. What could that be? Did we replace Him with duty? Resentment? Apathy? Disappointment? Selfishness? Wrong motives? Could be any number of those things.

And it became painfully personal for me at this point. Because I realized the Spirit of Christ was nailing what was wrong with me. It wasn’t just exhaustion from the caregiving and my own personal health issues. It was that I’d removed Him from first place of love in my heart and replaced Him with the duties of caregiving. Worse yet, I’d replaced loving Him with resentment of all the things I was giving up to serve Him. My motives were wrong. Selfishness was taking root. And I was in danger of being removed from His good graces. It obviously happened to the once-thriving church in Ephesus. There’s now on that formerly-thriving site in modern-day Turkey a series of ruins visited by tourists. Christianity is almost non-existent in that region. It’s downright frightening.

So if the lack of first love is that ugly picture, who will paint for us the beautiful picture of placing Christ in that first-love place in our lives—and show us the path to get there? My next stop was probably your obvious first choice, too—1 Corinthians 13. Love always trusts, always believes, always endures. It relinquishes rights and controls to the beloved. It bears burdens without grudges, keeps itself from grumbling. It is full of hope.

Beautiful, just like the Lihue sunrise. But how do I get there? I’m patiently enduring, trying to keep from growing weary. Trying, but, by and large failing.

The first step Jesus offers in Revelation 2:5, and it echoes a phrase in Jeremiah 2:2. It’s all about remembering. Remember how it was when we were placing love for Christ above all else. God remembers, as He told Jeremiah: “I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, how you followed me in the wilderness, in a land not sown” (ESV). So, the prescription has to do with remembering my former devotion, with remembering how safe it was to follow Him without fear into the unknown.

Next, Christ commands: repent. That’s all about agreeing with Him about the fact that my motives are wrong. They are sinful, selfish, unbefitting a lover of God.

Finally, He prescribes: do. Do what I did before. Do my service toward Him out of the overflow of love.

It occurred to me that this was a concern of the Apostle Paul for the Ephesian believers in his letter to them decades before Revelation was written. Paul wrote out part of his prayer for them: “that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge” (Ephesians 3:17-19). Perhaps the remembering and returning to my first love isn’t all about my feelings toward God, but in coming to know and recall His unfathomable love toward me.

The Apostle John reaffirms that thought when he writes, “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19). Here first is foremost in time, place, order and importance. We have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. So, then, our love is a response back to Him. The first and primary action is His. And in coming to know Him in a deeper way, we will have a deeper appreciation of the depth and breadth of His first love for us.

Perhaps, then, returning to our first love is returning to the open arms of the One Who loved us first.

As I reached the end of my trip and the end of my study on this topic, I came to the conclusion that returning to my first love has little to do with any feeling I could conjure toward Him or anyone else. Rather, it’s all about coming to bask, once again, as I did at first, in the amazing, abiding, perfect, fearless, self-abandoning love my Triune God has for me. Only then can I hold fast to Christ in love—and can I meet the expectation He states clearly in Mark 12:30: “And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (NKJV).

My prayer for you is that you, too, will gain a new understanding of just how much God loves you—and that you will find yourself running into the waiting arms of your first love, no matter what challenges or unknown circumstances you face together with Him today.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

For friends in Austin, Texas

2011-02-16T12:45:00.000-06:00

I'll be presenting and featuring my new Bible software reference package -- containing 9 of my Christian living, devotional, and Bible study books -- at the Wordsearch Bible Training Conference March 22-23 in Austin, TX. Would love for you to come, learn to use the software, and chat with me in person. Visit: wordsearchbible.com for registration info.

Blessings and prayers, Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

God's Awesomeness

2011-02-13T21:01:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

I'm taking some much-needed one-on-one time with my Lord this week--as I feel the challenge to refresh my loving relationship with Him. So, I won't do much writing. Instead, I'll ask you to meditate with me on a passage of Scripture that, once again, takes our eyes off ourselves and our circumstances and places them on our awesome Lord, where they should be--the Lord who first loved us and invites us to fall in love with Him. Here it is:

O LORD, our Lord, How excellent is Your name in all the earth, Who have set Your glory above the heavens!

2 Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have ordained strength, Because of Your enemies, That You may silence the enemy and the avenger.

3 When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,

4 What is man that You are mindful of him, And the son of man that You visit him?

5 For You have made him a little lower than the angels, And You have crowned him with glory and honor.

6 You have made him to have dominion over the works of Your hands; You have put all things under his feet,

7 All sheep and oxen-- Even the beasts of the field,

8 The birds of the air, And the fish of the sea That pass through the paths of the seas.

9 O LORD, our Lord, How excellent is Your name in all the earth!
Psalm 8:1-9 (NKJV)

I've been meditating prayerfully on this Psalm and on others that lead me to reflect on the excellence of the Lord, our Creator/Friend. Next week, we'll chat more about what I've been learning. But for now, I challenge you to take this same journey with me.

In addition, here are some of the passages my study has taken me to:

Psalm 91
Rev 2:1-4
Psalm 27
1 Corinthians 13

If you would, read those passages along with me -- and then next week, we can work on putting the pieces together. I'll share with you what I've learned from digging into them -- and maybe you can give me some feedback on what you've seen and heard from the Lord from those same verses.

Blessings and prayers to our Lord for you, today! May He open your eyes and ears to what He is saying, not just to the body of believers at large -- but especially to you, the love of His life.

Julie

© 2011, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Snow! Snow! Snow!

2011-02-04T07:12:00.000-06:00

Treasured Friend,

We’ve had a snow day here in our neck of the woods. Actually, more like a snow week – three days of being shut in thanks to two feet of the white stuff. You’d think that would be rather good, in a way--a time to catch up on lots of stuff you’ve been too busy chasing around in the outside world to finish. (Come to think of it, I did get a load of laundry in.) But I didn’t get nearly as much done as I’d have expected. Although Mom and I did singlehandedly (okay, with the help of one shovel between us, and one mop handle) attempt to move 500 cubic feet (including a four-foot drift jammed up against the sliding door) of the white stuff over the side of our deck, We got about two thirds of the way in before quitting in exhaustion. (She, as she’s always quick to point out, isn’t my aging parent! She shoved her way into the action with more energy and strength than it would have taken for me to resist her participation!)

In days like these, as in days of caregiving, we find within our energy stores an extra deposit from God—a strengthening for the task that feels supernatural in origin. We certainly felt that yesterday—that is, until we ran up against our physical wall of exhaustion. But, that’s the physical and clearly temporary brand of strengthening.

I reread a prayer this morning, from the quill of the apostle Paul, that speaks of a different kind of strengthening—a more permanent one—one that doesn’t leave us drained at the end of the experience and collapsing in exhaustion, but instead energizes us for a new kind of future so fabulous that we can’t even begin to imagine it. Here it is, found in the closing of his second letter to the Thessalonian Christians—a letter my pastor has been preaching through since the first of the year.

May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who has loved us and given us eternal encouragement and good hope by grace, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good work and word (2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 HCSB).

I pray this Scripture with many of my new students as they enter their writing studies with the Christian Writers Guild (in part because of the word word that makes up a key part of the prayer). But today, I felt very much like the Lord Himself whispered this prayer into my heart—as if the Holy Spirit and the Son of God, who intercede for me always, were praying it for me. To encourage my heart. To strengthen me. To prepare me for the good work (ergon) He has in store for me. To open me to the good Word and to the good words (logos) He has for me to speak or to write. Look where this strength and encouragement finds its source: in Jesus Christ and God our Father. And it’s based in the love of God for us. It’s the source of our hope. And, as I mentioned in the lead-in, it’s eternal, perpetual, everlasting, forever, since the world began and after the world ends.

So, I pray this Scripture into your day today—may our Lord, through His love and His Mighty Spirit, show His love for you by giving you an encouragement that will last. So that you may have His hope to sustain you—the hope based in the solid foundation of His promises to you. And may this love and this hope from Him bolster in your heart a firmly planted, growing resolve to keep on with your hard tasks. May it give energy to your tired body—and vibrant life to your tired soul. And may you, now rejuvenated in His strength, do with energy and enthusiasm the work of His calling on your life. May you not only do His will, but speak His words, today and every day.

Oh, and if you're caught in a snow day (as most of our part of the country continues to be), be careful moving that white stuff. It looks fluffy and sweet--like cotton candy--but boy-oh-boy can it leave your muscles aching!

Blessings to you, my friend,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

The Big Picture

2011-01-26T09:40:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

In the abject dailiness of our lives--whether in caregiving, in work, in illness, in the drudgery of the mundane--the reality of who we are, what we have, and how much God loves us can seem a foggy prospect, indeed. Because I've been overly enmeshed in the mundane, and I'm downright sick of it ... I've begun meditating on the openings of several of Paul's letters this week. In them, I see the exuberance of the Apostle--reminding us of the amazing gifts God has already given to believers in Christ. As I've read and reread chapter 1 of Ephesians and chapter 1 of Colossians, especially, I've found myself bolstered in my resolve to keep moving forward with Him even in the worst of the daily days.

My hope is in sharing a couple of the phrases I've been meditating on, you'll find a similar boost to your heart and soul. So, this week we'll look at the big picture from Ephesians 1--a picture of the reality we seldom even glimpse from our exhausted and overworked perspective.

Read the passage that follows. Savor it. Ask God's Holy Spirit to make you aware of His breath of life in it; ask Him to reveal something fresh of Himself to you through these amazing words. Don't read my comments on it until after you've heard God's own voice speaking to you through this inspired portion of His Holy Word:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory. Ephesians 1:3-14 (ESV)

Here's what I've noticed especially about this big picture--the greater reality. The phrases I highlighted jumped out especially to me this week--and so I dug deeper into them to discover more about the way they would have been understood by Paul's original readers. I think as you read what I learned in my study, you'll see new riches in these amazing words.

"In Him we have redemption"
In the original Greek that means something like, through Christ we hold in our hands the absolute freedom purchased by His blood. That's what we have, what we hold in our hands--the promise guaranteed by the Holy Spirit--that's the greatest of the spiritual blessings we have in Christ. At greatest cost, He purchased our slave contract from the sin that bound us up with the express purpose of setting us utterly and completely free. That's the way the word redemption would have appeared to the original readers of Ephesians 1. Yes, it's something that will be made clear to us in abundance one day, but it is also something we already have, by God's amazing grace.

"the mystery of His will"
According to my AMG Complete Word Study Dictionaries, the word mystery in the Greek had the connotation of our being let in on the secret of the inner circle--as if we've been initiated into the special group and are now privy to its most guarded secrets. We now know His will, His mysterious choices--He lets us in on what moves His heart. We get to know the very Person of God. And, here again, it's something we already have in part and will one day receive in full clarity.

"every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places"
The blessings we have aren't just physical, limited to this temporary existence. According to Vine's Expository Dictionary the word Paul used here for spiritual only appears after Pentecost, after the promise of the Holy Spirit's descending on Christ's followers was fulfilled. So the blessings here, specifically, are all about the indwelling of the Comforter, the Spirit of God sent to live in us. That's the blessing that transcends time and earthly life--He will stay with us for now and through eternity. What greater blessing would our hearts ever require than the very Spirit of God alive and working in each of us who believe in Christ?

"to the praise of His glory"
This is the obvious outcome of knowing what Paul has shown us about God's gifts and blessings to us. We see how awesome and exalted and unspeakable He is, and our response is to lift Him up, to lift our hearts and voices in awe and gratitude. The phrase appears several times in the passage--perhaps because we are so quick to complain and so slow to worship or praise. Okay, I won't speak for you--but I'll say this: I'm so quick to complain and so slow to worship.

I want to heed that reminder, and I intend to respond today by reminding myself early and often to express my worship to the God who lavished these unmerited blessings on me. I pray that as you lift your eyes from your current circumstances and onto the amazing gift of God's Spirit to you, your heart, too, will sing out in worship and praise to His resplendent glory.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

If you'd like to dig deeper into other Bible passages, like I've done here, you might enjoy my study of John 17 in my book Praying Like Jesus, available in print, audio book, and ebook editions at http://joymediaservices.com

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Caregiving, Your Calling for This Season

2011-01-11T17:06:00.001-06:00

Treasured friend,

I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've written. I've been praying for you in these weeks, but I've also been rather down. It's easy, you know, to succumb to discouragement when you've been exhausted to the bone and something small like a common little sinus bug swoops in to hold you down for the count for two weeks. You've certainly noticed--in yourself and in your caregiving charges--that so often illness and discouragement are unwilling life partners.

In that mode and mindset, still fatigued and sniffling, I opened my email today to find a newsletter to which I subscribe and an article that grabbed my attention and wouldn't let go. It was written by John Ortberg, who used to be at the Willow Creek Church in the Chicagoland area, and under whose ministry I've sat in many midweek and weekend worship services over the years. And it was absolutely relevant to us as caregivers. The title is

Guard Your Calling, Frodo

Every worthy task can wear you down.

Of course, you'll recognize the takeoff on Lord of the Rings. But the relevance isn't merely cultural. Although the article is written for leaders (it was in Leadership Journal), it is just as significant for caregivers.

In this season of our lives, we often are called to sacrifice much for the sake of the calling God has placed on us to guard and care for our elder loved ones. And absolutely, the task is worthy. So, like Ortberg points out, we can expect this task to wear us down. If you doubt this (like you haven't seen it in your own life), my last two weeks bear it out in Technacolor.

I think of the words of the apostle Paul:

Therefore I, the prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, accepting one another in love, diligently keeping the unity of the Spirit with the peace that binds ⌊us⌋. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope at your calling— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. Now grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of the Messiah’s gift. Ephesians 4:1-7 (HCSB)

Walk worthy of the calling, my friend, the caregiving calling. For you have received the charge from Christ Himself. And you already have (not will have at some future date) not only the calling, but the equipping for the task. He has placed at your disposal and mine, all the humility, gentleness, patience, love, diligence, unity of purpose, and peace we need to accomplish our task--and of course He gives us His Holy Spirit Who holds these for us in overflowing supply. Our hope in fulfilling this calling is that our Lord who overcame the world is beside us cheering us on and propelling us forward. This is the gift of our Messiah, our Redeemer, to all of us who believe.

So, take a moment or two to follow the link above to read Ortberg's short article--as a challenge and a reminder to continue guarding the call God has placed on your life in this moment. And better yet, take many moments to meditate on and pray through the Ephesians 4 passage to begin to appropriate those amazing resources God places at your disposal. I know I'm going to camp out there for the next few days--to drink it all in, so I can pour it all out.

Many blessings to you, my friend,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

(In case you can't click on the link above, here it is again: http://www.christianitytoday.com/le/currenttrendscolumns/leadershipweekly/guardcallingfrodo.html)

Reconciled: A Christmas Gift

2010-12-24T08:51:00.000-06:00

Treasured friend,

It’s Christmas. Despite the carols, the decorations, the parties, the joy-to-the-world frivolity, I’ve had a hard time feeling Christmas in my heart this year. Mom and I never did go Christmas shopping, unless you count a handful of late-night forays onto websites to choose a few necessities for each other (things we would have bought for ourselves anyway). Maybe it’s the lack of seeing children crying on the mall Santa’s lap that kept us from getting into the spirit of the season. Or the lack of hearing those “silver bells,” unless you count the one lone Salvation Army ringer at the grocery store check-out. It certainly can’t be the lack of snow—if there’s one thing the Midwest has this year, it’s a “white Christmas.” I wouldn’t mind a little less white, truth be told.

Maybe it’s the combination of all those things. But it’s probably more than that. I think the culprit is more the numbness of fatigue, thanks to a year’s worth of accumulated hours of sleep lost. That, and a drained emotional tank. The lows we’ve experienced in the health department and the bounce of a few unexpected highs have pulled the plug on our annual allotment of feelings. Our emotions haven’t known what to prepare for on any given morning, so they’ve given up, packed it in, and left the premises.

I’m under no illusion that we’re alone in these bah-humbug feelings. I suspect that most caregivers who are looking back over a year of challenges are having a hard time trumping up the Christmas spirit.

In my blue funk, I turned—where else?—to the Word. I’ve always loved Paul’s prayer for the Colossians, “May you be strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience, with joy giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the saints’ inheritance in the light” Colossians 1:11-12 (HCSB). And I pray that prayer for our household and yours this Christmas Eve morning. May He give you power. May He multiply your endurance. May you find joy in serving Him by serving your ailing loved one.

But then I skipped down a verse and found the true source of joy. I quoted it in fancy type in the bookmark column of our family newsletter. And I’d like to quote it here for you. It speaks of the birth we celebrate in this season—and Who that child in the manger really is. Let me list it out for you. As you read it, try to meditate on this description of the Christ of Christmas, as I have.

The Centrality of Christ

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.

For everything was created by Him, in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities— all things have been created through Him and for Him.

He is before all things, and by Him all things hold together.

He is also the head of the body, the church; He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He might come to have first place in everything.

For God was pleased ⌊to have⌋ all His fullness dwell in Him,

and through Him to reconcile everything to Himself by making peace through the blood of His cross— whether things on earth or things in heaven.

Colossians 1:15-20 (HCSB)

To say He’s powerful is the grossest understatement. To say He has authority is a puny way to describe Him. He is all. Everything. In it. Creator of it. Lord of it. Head of it. Beginning of it. End of it.

And how has He used that power and authority? To reconcile everything to Himself. The word picture I see is of His long and strong arms pulling me to the safety of His embrace—where I find peace and rest as He works to set all things right for the coming kingdom, even though they’ve gone woefully wrong in this world.

That’s the Christmas spirit--the spirit of not just a baby, but of the Mighty King making Himself become fragile, so He could have a peaceful relationship with you and me. It's never really been about trumped up feelings of nostalgia at seeing candy canes and shimmering tinsel and jingling bells and twinkling lights. It's all about the powered-down rest of one reconciled with her Maker and safe in His embrace because He made the effort to make it so.

My prayer for you is that you’ll find that reconciled peace in His arms today, and in the days to come. And that this picture of the Christ of Christmas will become a source of courage and strength to you.

Joyful blessings to you and your loved ones,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

In that Same Country

2010-12-01T08:57:00.000-06:00

Treasured friend,

I love Christmas -- and I love imagination and creativity. These I combined into a fictional article I wrote about fifteen years ago that paints a picture of what might have been going on in the lives of key players in the Easter drama during the season of the first Christmas. Originally printed in The Standard magazine, the article now appears as a chapter in my new compilation ebook: Pearls to Treasure: Essays, articles and devotions from 25 years of writing about God's kingdom.

I want to share this with you, because as caregivers our lives are defined, by and large, by mundane everydayness. And yet, we don't know from our limited earthbound perspective just when the eternal will break into our everyday--and take on a significance only heaven will allow us to know. Be encouraged, my exhausted friend. And be on the lookout for the eternal--it'll be there, intermingled with your caregiving duties. If you're not attuned to it, you may never even see it coming.

AND THERE WERE IN THAT SAME COUNTRY …

Once upon a time, a time not awfully different from today, in a land not very far away, there lived a good king—a perfectly good king. From his tower high above the land the king looked down to survey his dominion.

First, he focused on his capital city. His eyes swept over the dusty cityscape. He saw the place his father used to live. He saw a man who worked in his father's house. This place and this man made him sad. Not for the first time, nor the last. And this is what he saw:

The young priest Caiaphas was descending the glittering gold and snowy marble terraces surrounding the flat-topped, man-made mount that housed the place once called A House of Prayer for All Nations. (By this time it was called Herod's Temple.) Caiaphas whistled heartily while he passed the raucous barkers calling out to foreigners to exchange their money for temple money—for a small fee, of course.

As he walked down the dusty brown street that led outside the city gate past the place of the skull, a phrase his teacher had used years ago reverberated in his mind. Caiaphas had watched his first sacrifice—heard that pure lamb bleat, looked on as it bled, smelled its flesh as it burned. His teacher had said it was necessary for one lamb to die so the people wouldn't have to. That made him shudder—then and now.

But he would have none of those haunting thoughts today. Today he was on a mission. No longer a student, Caiaphas now could focus his efforts on buying the hand of the fair daughter of Annas. She was certain to cost him plenty. Actually, he cared little for the girl, scarcely knew her name. It was Annas he sought out. Annas controlled the high priesthood. And that was what Caiaphas wanted to be. High priest. With all its pomp and circumstance, power and influence. And its wealth. Definitely its wealth. Yes, he would have the daughter of Annas for his wife. And he would have the high priesthood, just you wait and see.

The good king peered into the young man's heart until he could stand it no longer. Try as he might to find a spark of love or true wisdom, he found none. He would have to use this Caiaphas in his grand plan, but the king wished it were not so. The people desperately needed a good high priest—a truly good one. And that's who they would have. Soon. As soon as the time was right.

When he looked away from the young man, the king saw an elder passing by on the street. "What about him?" the king mused.

A scroll under his arm, the elder—Nicodemus—moved swiftly, his robes swishing up a cloud of dust in his wake. He had been studying the nuances of the historic law, as it regarded the carrying of a needle in one's robe on the Sabbath day, and he was prepared to report his research results to the seventy men who sat with him on the highest council.

Passing the city's judgment gate (that led to the hill where guilty men were left to die on rough-hewn crosses), and through the shadows of the massive stone walls and pillars that dated back so many generations, he remembered a passage he had read from the scroll in the synagogue just last Sabbath: "Lift up your heads, oh you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle."

And Nicodemus found himself wondering, "Who is he, this King of glory?"

The king sighed long. It was good to know that at least one leader of his people cared enough to wonder about him. That was hopeful.

Reassured, the king turned his attention to a well to the south and east of the city, a well where the girls of the village of Bethany had gathered to draw the morning water.

It was still cool, the sun barely up, when the little girl Mary left her house and skipped off (as well as a little girl can with a clay jug on her head) to draw her family's daily allotment of water. The other girls her age stood chattering and giggling as they balanced their water jars to minimize the inevitable splashing. By the time Mary approached, the girls had begun whispering about the hunched-up elderly woman, clay jug painfully clutched, who was approaching the well. Quickly, with many pointed fingers and sideways glances, the girls finished their work and dispersed.

Mary looked up from drawing her water and smiled. She asked whether the woman would like her to fill the jug. The woman nodded her thanks and handed the vessel to the little girl. It was almost as big as the child. But Mary handled it expertly.

For years the old woman had carried with her a small vial of wonderful-smelling spikenard. Though the vial was sealed, the ointment's magnificent aroma strayed through its walls. She had saved it for some noble purpose, not knowing what. Seeing Mary, she felt compelled to give it to this child. Perhaps it was the reflection in Mary of her own daughter, who had been taken from her many years before. Impulsive, but a good-hearted child. Perhaps it was—well, no matter. Reaching into her garments, the woman slowly removed the small rose-purple vial.

Maybe Mary would find a grand use for the fragrant ointment some day after the woman was long gone. So, she pressed it into the girl's hand. Startled by the gift, little Mary hugged her and ran off—forgetting her own water jar.

The king watched as Mary buried the treasure in a secret hiding place, and he knew one day that vial of nard would indeed serve a noble purpose. But for now he had seen enough. Enough to know now was the time he needed to visit his people. Walk with them. Eat with them. Tell stories and laugh with them. Now was the time. And he knew—as all kings do—that you can't do that when you look like a king.

So he found a home comfortable and snug in the womb of another young girl, also called Mary, who was newly pledged to a good man—a carpenter.

While this other Mary and her new husband were visiting his native city of Bethlehem (so they could be counted for the governor's taxation), the king decided to take his first breath of his country's air. The family home was bulging with relatives, the eldest of whom were staying in the guest chamber. The only quiet place found for the king (in disguise) to be born was in the cave stable on the house's first floor. It was the place where the livestock were warmed and fed during the cold season. It was part of the house—technically, but it was somehow more peaceful than the chaotic main chamber, bustling as it was with visitors and distant relatives from across his land.

And so it was that the king cried his first infant cry and made his royal entrance. His castle traded for a cave stable; his servants traded for a teenage mother and her carpenter husband; his throne and ornately majestic dais traded for a cattle trough lined with straw.

And they named him Jesus.

So the king came to his own people, but most of them did not receive him. Still, to all those who did receive him, the ones who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God (John 1:11-12). ∆

I pray for you a blessed season of preparing to celebrate Christ's incarnation.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com. To purchase a copy of Pearls to Treasure in ebook format, visit http://www.joymediaservices.com/. To purchase in Kindle format, visit: http://www.amazon.com/Julie-Allyson-Ieron/e/B001JS7ZKK/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Gather 'Round to Give Thanks

2010-11-24T08:16:00.000-06:00

Treasured friend,

In honor of Thanksgiving, I share one of my favorite chapters from the new edition of Praying Like Jesus--"Gather 'Round to Give Thanks." I love it because it reminds us of the way we humans expect to receive good gifts from God--even demand them. And then when we do, we tend to forget to give the return gift of gratefulness to Him for what He provides--mercies (undeserved gifts) new every morning.

Just as men spontaneously praise whatever they value, so they spontaneously urge us to join them in praising it: “Isn’t she lovely? Wasn’t it glorious? Don’t you think that magnificent?” The Psalmists in telling everyone to praise God are doing what all men do when they speak of what they care about.

—C. S. LEWIS

We devote a day of every year to our next subject in prayer, but Jesus never directly mentions it in John 17. That subject? Thankfulness. In two of His other recorded prayers in the Gospels, Jesus begins with the words, “I thank You, my Father, that...” (see Luke 10:21; John 11:41). In truth, Jesus’ thankfulness for the gifts of the Father is implied, if not overtly stated, throughout the high priestly prayer. His tone expresses gratitude to the Father for the gift of glory, the work assigned to Him, the provision of means to do the work, and the followers who would soon take on the mantle of fulfilling the work.

In the now-clichéd prayer acronym ACTS (adoration, confession, thanksgiving, supplication), a thankful heart takes the third place in the prescribed pattern of prayer. This may be, in part, because many times in the Epistles, prayer is coupled with the companion principle of a thankful heart. “In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God,” Paul told the Philippians (4:6). And when it came to advising his protégé, Timothy, Paul said, “I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone” (1 Timothy 2:1). Similarly the psalmist wrote, “Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song” (Psalm 95:2). Go ahead and pray, but be sure to include thankfulness and appreciation as you proceed.

As we opened this study, we focused our prayer on adoring God for who He is. In thanksgiving, we focus our prayer on appreciating Him for what He does for us. It is a subtle difference. Where worship leaves our needs out of the picture, thankfulness (sometimes called praise) calls attention to God’s mercy and kindness in His dealings with us.

Apparently, thankfulness is yet another godly characteristic that doesn’t come naturally. I’d like to think if I had been one of the children of Israel traversing the wilderness behind a pillar of fire, I would have been thankful for every time He provided manna from heaven, for the fact that He saw that my shoes didn’t wear out on the journey, for every time He routed an enemy before my eyes. I’d like to think so. But it is unlikely. Instead of thankfulness, God received from the Israelites grumbling that the manna was too bland in comparison to the aromatic spices of Egypt, unfaithfulness in worshiping golden non-gods, and greediness in taking for themselves forbidden spoils from God’s victories.

I think too of the ten lepers who begged Jesus for pity.

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” (Luke 17:15-18)

Do you feel the grief in Jesus’ words? Can you empathize with the broken heart of the Healer—that His gift was received but not acknowledged with thankfulness by nine of the ten lepers? Which leper would I have been?

We like to think we are independent, self-sufficient, in control of our lives. If we amass our own fortunes and maintain our own welfare, we have no one to thank but ourselves. But as believers in Christ, we have, by definition, acknowledged that Someone greater is in control. That Someone deserves our constant gratitude.

Earlier I mentioned the holiday of Thanksgiving, a day supposedly set aside to be thankful to God. In actuality (I’m not preaching to anyone if not myself here), it is a day when we women slave from the wee hours to stuff a bird, to dice and mash and bake and boil all the requisite fixings, while the family-room television blares the Macy’s parade and a succession of football contests. I’m thankful, all right! Thanksgiving evening when it’s all over I’m thankful this holiday comes only once a year.

When President Lincoln declared the last Thursday of November as Thanksgiving Day (to bolster morale during the Civil War), I’m certain this isn’t what he had in mind. Throughout the history of the United States, days of prayerful thankfulness were declared by presidential order. In times of drought or emergency, they were declared for fasting and prayer. (Fasting, not overeating.) This is consistent with the biblical model of presenting our requests to God with thankful, expectant hearts. But today Thanksgiving is just another excuse for a day to take off work, to watch sports, to overeat, and to shop enticing holiday sales.

It’s not that thanksgiving can only take place on Thanksgiving. Quite the contrary. Paul says, “In every thing give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:18 KJV). Not necessarily for everything—our hearts cannot be grateful for everything that happens in this life—but in every circumstance keep giving God thanks, keep doing what the old-time hymn writer suggests: Keep counting your blessings.

Prayer coupled with a thankful heart is pleasing to God. We come to Him, acknowledging our dependence on Him, asking for favors, and appreciating all the favors He already has bestowed on us. Let’s be like the Samaritan leper, rather than the wandering Israelites. Let’s place thankfulness to God for what He has done in its proper order in our prayer lives.

Personal Prayer Starter

Gracious and giving Father,

If I began to list all the gifts You have bestowed on me, I would need all of eternity to express my gratitude. But too often I grumble about the things I don’t have rather than being thankful for what I do have. Please forgive me for this sin.

I set aside time, today, to thank You especially for...

Even as I ask that You would give me... so I thank You for every blessing You already have given.

Julie-Allyson Ieron, Praying Like Jesus: Discovering the Pattern of Godly Prayer, , Updated 2nd Edition ed. (Park Ridge, IL: Joy Media, 2010), WORDsearch CROSS e-book, Under: "Section Seven. Postlude to Prayer".

Thanksgiving Blessings to you and your loved ones,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Pietà

2010-11-15T21:54:00.000-06:00

Treasured friend,

In keeping with the "artsy" theme of my previous entry, I'd like to share with you another Italian Art inspired devotional: this one jumps off of Michaelangelo's amazing sculpture, Pietà. It's from the pages of Names of Women of the Bible.

CALL HER “WOMAN”

Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, “This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man.” (Genesis 2:22–23)
The year was 1498. A twenty-three-year-old artist made a 150-mile trek from Rome to Carrara, an almost nameless village on the Ligurian Sea. According to his own word, he had been commissioned to sculpt “the most beautiful work in marble which exists today in Rome.” Only the highest quality of marble would do. And that meant Carraran marble. He would make the journey himself to assure its quality.

The artist worked with great intensity on the huge block of marble. Relentlessly, he chiseled away the excess to uncover the exceptional beauty locked within—a man and a woman. A woman of stunning delicacy, her facial features lovingly created, the detail amazingly lifelike, down to the wrinkles in her garment, the helpless gesture of her left hand, the angle of her bowed head that depicted her grief.

And the man. A symbolic representation of the shed earthly shell of the man of sorrows, intimately acquainted with grief. Eyes closed in death. Full-grown but—reminiscent of days gone by—cradled one last time in his mother’s loving arm.

Michelangelo toiled tirelessly for three years to fashion this life-sized depiction of the Savior in the arms of Mary. Arguably one of the most distinctively beautiful works in marble ever created, his Pietà (translation: pity or compassion) resides in St. Peter’s in Vatican City.

A woman and a man—lifelike yet lifeless—were formed of the finest marble with tender care by the hands of an artist, who was gifted to be a “cocreator” in the tradition of the only Creator capable of breathing life into His work.

God spoke many things into existence. Day. Night. Air. Seas. Land. Countless living creatures to be fruitful, multiply, and fill His creation. But when it came to the crowning achievements of His world, when it came to the creation of man and woman, He became intimately involved. Forming them with His own hand, breathing into them His own life. His touch created a deep and spiritual connection with them.

And from the Creator’s perspective, it wasn’t just good, it was “very good.”

As with everything in creation, these two creatures each had a special purpose to fulfill. Together. And separately.

The man, He created out of the “dust of the ground”; the woman, He created out of the man’s rib. As Matthew Henry notes, “The woman was made out of a rib out of the side of Adam; not made out of his head to rule over him, nor out of his feet to be trampled upon by him, but out of his side to be equal with him, under his arm to be protected, and near his heart to be beloved.”

The woman’s purpose was to be partner and companion with the man. She was to have her own identity and make her own choices. She had an intrinsic value, having been created in God’s image as had the man.

God gave her a tender, nurturing heart. Because of her tragic choice to sin, her heart was to be pierced by pietà, even as His own would be pierced by her pietà at the Cross—yet another connection between mankind and the loving Creator.

God’s work through the women of His creation is [worthy of study and celebration.] ... We will learn to know by name women who alternately display His grace or show the desperate need for His pietà in this fallen, groaning world.

And in so doing, we will honor the Creator, who not only chiseled and caressed our bodies, but conceived a way to redeem our souls.

I hope and pray you enjoyed this reminder of how very much God, your Creator, loves and values you. It's one of my favorite word pictures that illustrates for me how intimately Christ relates to our painful circumstances.

Blessings and prayers, Julie

Excerpted by permission from Names of Women of the Bible, © 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

For you Kindle users, click on the link above to learn how to get a copy of the entire Names of Women of the Bible ebook (updated, including a brand-new Bible study guide) on your device; for Nook, Sony, and Kobo users (I'm one of you!), you can order a copy of the ebook and study guide in PDF or EPUB format from http://www.joymediaservices.com/. These ebooks make great Christmas presents for your loved ones--or yourself!

Mona Lisa

2010-11-02T16:42:00.000-05:00

Patient friend,

I’m in a petulant mood. I blame my mother for it. She never let me sulk when I was a child. So I have a lot of it simmering inside—and after forty-never-mind-how-many years, it’s getting close to boiling over, like my overfilled pasta pot likes to do all over my flat-burnered stove.

With the exhaustion of not being able to sustain sleep for very long at a time (last night I was awake every 20 minutes replaying events of recent days) and the dulling sadness over diagnoses Dad has been getting (not to mention the un-tally-able count of conversations I’ve had with doctors, pharmacists, nurses, and their various and sundry assistants over his prescriptions and his restrictions), I think I have the right to a little self-indulgent petulance.

Even a search of the Psalms for words of comfort has done little to quell my bitter swell. Which is why for more than a week, now, I’ve been avoiding writing a God-is-on-your-side devotional to share with you. I know it to be true, of course. But I don’t feel it. What I do feel is, well, petulant. Or as my trusty Yahoo dictionary puts it:

Unreasonably irritable or ill-tempered; peevish. …

Or, to put it another way, I feel any number of the emotion’s trusty synonyms:

miff: a huff … offended or annoyed.

pout: To exhibit displeasure or disappointment; sulk. To protrude the lips in an expression of displeasure or sulkiness.

They’ve got it exactly—it’s like someone painted my picture with words. And even in my peevishness, I must admit it’s not the prettiest of pictures. Which, I suppose is why Mom tried to break me of the pouty habit early in life. Mona Lisa she used to call me, whenever I’d sulk. I always hated that!

So somewhere around 3 a.m. today I brought my sulk to the Lord and laid it out. It was as well-rehearsed as Elijah’s conversation with God in 1 Kings 19:9-10, and restated in vv. 13-14.

In Elijah’s case, both times it went,

There he came to a cave and lodged in it. And behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and he said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

He said, “I have been very jealous for the LORD, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.”

In my case, it went:

God: What are you doing here, Julie?

Me: Life stinks, God. I’ve done it your way—and more importantly so has my dad (mom, too!); and this is where it lands him, where it lands all three of us? In a medical holding pattern with an orbit that seems to be degrading with each rotation around the sun? It’s not fair, God. It’s not fair!

Have you ever had that conversation with God? I suspect every exhausted caregiver has reached that boiling point on more than one occasion (if you haven’t, you will).

Here’s how God responded to me … He didn’t speak audibly, didn’t point me to a specific verse of Scripture. Instead He brought to mind a song I hear almost daily in my Pandora mix: “More Than Enough” sung by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. It speaks the names of God, that taken together assure us of His all-sufficiency for us, no matter our circumstances. So, my fatigued mind spent the wee hours rehearsing what I could recall of these names:

• Jehovah Jireh: That one’s easy to remember. It’s the God who provides. (This brought to mind the one time where this name appears in Scripture—when God provided a ram for sacrifice just as Abraham was about to offer Isaac on the altar--I wrote about that one in Praying Like Jesus, so I know it well.)

• Jehovah Rapha: I know that one, too: the God who heals.

• Jehovah Shalom: That’s easy: God, our peace.

• Jehovah Shammah: That one I had to look up. (The Lord is present)

Any one of these powerful names of God--indicators of His character and nature--would be “more than enough” to sustain you or me. But I camped out on the one name I had to look up. Once I learned its translation, I examined it, prayed it, and used my trusty Bible software to find how it’s used in the Word.

I found it one of the more frequently used compound descriptors of God, woven through both Testaments. It is the name that will one day appear on the City of God (Ezekiel 48:35, where the city is inscribed with the name YHWH is Here—talk about sufficiency, that’s the place I want to live).

And it’s the name God gave to Moses when he interceded for the people of Israel, while they were in the dire straits of the wilderness (a setting to which I can relate emotionally). Moses asked God to send someone to walk beside him in the difficult journey that was ahead (Exodus 33:12). “You have not let me know whom You will send with me,” Moses complains. And God’s reply in the next verse is the essence of Jehovah Shammah: “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

Because God Himself volunteers to walk beside Moses (and to do so visibly in the Pillar of Fire and the Cloud of Glory), the victorious result is sure. And so it is with us. Jesus volunteers in Matthew 28:20, “I am with you always.” The writer of Hebrews assures us that the Father promises us, “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

And so, in my ebbing petulant mood, I returned to God’s words to Moses. He didn’t only promise His presence—there was even more to the guarantee: “… and I will give you rest.” The Hebrew word there means that in His nearness God will settle us down, comfort us, give us soul-rest. That’s what I need, today: the full assurance of Jehovah Shammah making His way through my day alongside me; settling me down and allowing me to rest in the middle of the desert. Maybe you could use that assurance, too. Practice hearing Him respond to your complaint that way: "I'll be right there with you--I, Jehovah Shammah! And I will give you rest."

If you feel like being a little vulnerable—you’re among friends, here—I’d love to hear how God has spoken words of sustaining grace and comfort to you in your boiling-point dialogue. So, if you’d like to post a reply to this blog, with a Scripture God uses to sustain you, I know it would be a comfort to me, and to other readers.

Thanks for allowing me to do a temporary name change to Mona Lisa this afternoon. Sometimes it helps to talk it out—with each other, and more crucially with God.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Degree I Don't Want

2010-10-08T22:24:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

I’m pretty sure I qualified for an honorary degree courtesy of walking with Dad through his recent medical odyssey. I’ve secretly aspired to one for years. Not that I don’t appreciate the black robe, and red and white hood I earned for my MA all those years ago at Ball State. I do. I worked hard for it—anyone who’s earned one knows they’re not simply bestowed, they indicate years of effort.

But as much as I’ve wished for an honorary degree I haven’t technically earned, I’m thinking the one I qualified for this summer may not be one I ought to wear with pride. It’s a Ph.W.—you know, a Doctorate of the Philosophy of Worries. You may have qualified for one recently, too. In my waiting-room hours and especially the long nights when I lie awake imagining the absolute worst eventualities, I’m quite sure I’ve taken the study of this particular science to new heights. Oh how I’ve worried, fretted, fidgeted, and feared.

And it’s begun taking its toll. Since I’ve been living it, I haven’t been as conscious of its escalation—or of all the energies I’ve been pouring into this study. But, this afternoon we ran into a nurse who cared for Dad in one of his earlier hospitalizations. We’ve seen her frequently in the ensuing years—and she’s offered a listening ear and wise counsel more times than we could count. Today, as she celebrated with us over Dad’s great news from last week, she squeezed his shoulder. Then she looked Mom and me in the eye. “This has taken its toll on you. All this worry. All this stress. You’re feeling it, aren’t you?”

Mom and I looked at each other. She knows our little secret. She can see in our drawn faces: the color of strain. The tell-tale lines of sleepless nights. The slump of pent-up fatigue. We nodded dumbly—and changed the subject expertly. But I couldn’t get that conversation out of my mind tonight, as I tried to settle my thoughts, calm my upset gut, and un-kink my shoulder muscles in preparation for bedtime.

Something about her concern and her candor reminded me of words our Master just might have said to us in that store aisle today, had He been visibly present:

And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? … Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble (Matthew 6:27-34; ESV).

Gospel writer Matthew records five instances where Jesus chides His devoted but weary and worried followers for their “little faith.” (Matthew 6, 8:26, 14:31, 16:8, 17:20). I looked them up. And for some reason, tonight when I read them again, I wasn’t my usual self—quick to wag my index finger at the disciples. This time, I understood. More than I ever have before, I got the slowness of the disciples to trust the Master when circumstances look hopeless:

• The boat is tossed by relentless winds—and the infuriatingly unconcerned Master sleeps in the bow.
• Peter steps out of the boat and sinks into the waves.
• The ministry team’s tangible reserves of life’s necessities are depleted.
• The cure they pray for is slow in coming.

I get where they were finding their fears. Because I’m there. Right there. Worried, not that the Master can’t intervene. But rather that He won’t. After all, in this life, things don’t always work out with fairy tale endings. Even those who received miracles in the New Testament, eventually passed out of this world and into eternity. Nothing this side is permanent. So it’s easy to worry about that—to look around at circumstances, and waver in my faith. (I’m saying my here, but I’m guessing you’ve been here, too.)

That’s where Jesus’ words in Matthew 6 both challenge and encourage us. Once we get past His nailing me for my little faith and nod in agreement with His realistic assessment that “tomorrow will be anxious for itself” (it will certainly have its share of trouble), we can sink our weary selves into the middle of the passage. Usually, when I read it, I focus on the seeking first His kingdom. Certainly that’s the prescription—ultimately. But tonight, I gravitated more to the “why” we needn’t worry. Abba Father in Heaven knows what’s happening here. He knows what we need. And His arm is ready to act on our behalf—maybe to deliver us from the storm, more likely to support and provide for us through it. He promised He would indeed see to our needs.

So, I believe if He were to be the one to endow me with that honorary doctorate, it wouldn’t be in a joyfully pleasant ceremony. I would look into His eyes and find them disappointed in my lacking faith. I imagine He would say something close to what He told the disciples on those many occasions: “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt? Didn’t you know I care? I love you? I’ll add to you all the things I already know you need today—and all those things I know you’ll need tomorrow. Your worry is accomplishing nothing—in fact, less than nothing. It’s hurting you. This is something I don’t want for you. You didn’t need to earn this particular degree. Cease striving, and rest like your Master in the bow of the rocking boat. Your Mighty God has it all under control.”

On second thought, maybe I’ll turn down that degree, and see if I can earn one in a more appropriate field—I think I’ll go for a Ph.F, Doctorate of Faith. As long as it’s well-placed faith in this loving and compassionate Master, it will be worth the work. Want to join me in the preparation and study?

With my prayers for you tonight,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Answered Prayer

2010-09-30T10:33:00.000-05:00

Treasured Friend,

I want to offer you a glimpse into how the Lord intervened on our family's behalf today--clearly and obviously--and beyond what we expected. First, let me share a portion of the Scripture our pastors Greg and Tim read to Dad (and us) in his hospital room this morning. It's from Psalm 34. When you have time, read the whole Psalm--for it is a faith-builder. But here's a portion of it that rang true for us:

Psalm 34:1-15 (NASB) I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul will make its boast in the LORD; The humble will hear it and rejoice. O magnify the LORD with me, And let us exalt His name together. I sought the LORD, and He answered me, And delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, And their faces will never be ashamed. This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him And saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear Him, And rescues them. O taste and see that the LORD is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! O fear the LORD, you His saints; For to those who fear Him there is no want. The young lions do lack and suffer hunger; But they who seek the LORD shall not be in want of any good thing. Come, you children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the LORD. Who is the man who desires life And loves length of days that he may see good? Keep your tongue from evil And your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil and do good; Seek peace and pursue it. The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous And His ears are open to their cry.

And here's what the Lord did for Dad ... as I reported it to my email prayer team just moments ago:

You’re really not going to believe this one … We got to the hospital, went through all the admission, pre-op, our pastors came and prayed with us, and the nurse brought him down for the procedure. They hooked up IV, and put him on the pacemaker monitor and …. his heart had corrected on its own. No procedure!

They came and got Mom and me in the waiting room (I’d read exactly 2 pages of my book) and sent the three of us on our way.

What an answered prayer! I mean no disrespect to our faith here, but we simply can’t believe how God undertook in answer to your prayers and those of each of our loved ones. I have no problem expecting God to heal through doctors and meds, but I’m sure I didn’t have the faith to even ask that He’d intervene on His own without the procedure. Another of God’s special surprises.

May He be with you on your journey today, and show you the surprise of His hand evident and at work in your situation.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Hannah: Grace

2010-09-27T22:31:00.001-05:00

Treasured Friend,

I've been posting some material in the last few weeks that hasn't quite been devotional--at least not technically. But, while I'm excited to share with you these items of news--I don't want to miss out on the opportunity to open the Word of God with you. So, for this week's devotion, I'm excerpting a chapter from my newly updated ebook (first printed by Moody in 1998; and revised this year for a new millennium), Names of Women of the Bible. I chose this chapter because in it we see how God has compassion on an exhausted, hurting woman who has no recourse but to carry her burden to Him in prayer. So, enjoy this excerpt from one of my favorite chapters. It represents the story of a woman I can relate to on so many levels. I pray you can, too:

HANNAH: GRACE

I am a woman who is deeply troubled. . . . I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. (1 Samuel 1:15)

It was to be three weeks of bliss. The trip of a lifetime.

I had been chosen to join a touring choir on a mission to Europe. My dear friend Paul Yerden (our church's minister of music) and his wife, Rita Jo, would lead the tour.

While in Germany, we enjoyed the hospitality of host churches. They served us delicious cold cuts and cheese with heavily buttered hard rolls. Every afternoon we stopped at out-of-the-way bakeries for a stretch break and to enjoy luscious cream-filled pastries.

Soon after our arrival, my stomach began to complain. At first it was just a little discomfort, then the pain increased. I missed several concerts, having to lie down backstage while my friends were out front ministering. Discouragement crept in. It wasn't until five years later that my physician discovered the milk allergy—to cream, cheese, butter —that caused these symptoms. All I knew at the time was that I was missing all the good stuff by being sick.

One afternoon Rita Jo pushed a folded piece of paper into my hand. On it she had handwritten the words to the hymn "He Giveth More Grace." I read and reread those words, contemplating their meaning, desiring the grace they bespoke.

Hannah, whose name means grace, came to know that grace intimately during her deep distress. She experienced the miracle-working grace of God, because she carried her burden right to Him.

Hannah had good reason to be depressed. You and I certainly would have been troubled in her circumstance. Peninnah, her husband's other wife, had many children; Hannah had none. Peninnah, the Scriptures say, tormented her rival for Elkanah's attention: "Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat" (1 Samuel 1:7). In her pain and in utter disregard for anyone who might be watching, Hannah bared her soul to the Lord, begging Him to give her a son, vowing to give that child back to Him for His service.

In response, the Scriptures record a beautiful phrase, "and the Lord remembered her" (1 Samuel 1:19). She touched the Father's heart with her tears and prayers, and He extended His hand to her. God honored Hannah's sincerity and fervency. He granted her not only that baby, but later He also gave her other sons and daughters.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines grace as "A favor rendered by one who need not do so." God acted graciously on Hannah's behalf, not because He was obligated to do so, but because He chose to do so. Moreover, He displayed His graciousness through her, by using her firstborn son (whom she named Samuel, which means, "heard of God") to rule His people in justice and honor. In his old age, long after his mother was gone, Samuel had the privilege of anointing Israel's greatest king, David.

Hannah's response to the Lord's provision was as exemplary as her request. First, she did as she had promised. She gave the child Samuel to minister in the Lord's temple to become a blessing back to the Lord. Second, she gave all the glory to God, her heart overflowing into a poetic prayer of acknowledgment and thanks. "My heart rejoices in the Lord; in the Lord my horn is lifted high. . . . There is no one holy like the Lord; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God" (1 Samuel 2:1–2).

In some obvious ways, we are unlike Hannah. In few of our homes do two wives of the same man live together (although if they did, feuding would not be unthinkable). And in our culture, inability to have children is not thought to be a curse from God, as it was in Hannah's day.

But in the ways that count, we are very much alike. Our needs, our heavy burdens, the demands of life, and our tormentors and problems too often threaten to overwhelm us. Like I did on my college bus trip, we often suffer alone, when with just a prayer we can call upon the one who will "remember us" as He remembered Hannah all those centuries ago.

The writer of Proverbs noted that God "mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble" (3:34). It is a truth James quotes in his epistle (4:6).

It was in humbly pouring out her heart to God that Hannah found her burden lifted. Her life can be an example to us of what God can do—if we do our part. We are told in Scripture what that part is: "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need" (Hebrews 4:16).

It has been many years since Rita Jo handed me that paper, but I'll never forget its effect upon me. Those words reminded me that God, through His only Son Jesus whom He graciously sacrificed to meet the ultimate need of humanity, stands ready to provide for all my needs through His abundant, overflowing supply. And He does this not because of any obligation, but because He chooses to do so.

My dear, loving Father, I need a portion of that overflowing supply of grace today, and I know so many others around me have that same need. Please provide for me, and equip me to be a conduit of Your grace in the lives of those I love. Amen.

Blessings and prayers, Julie

© 1998, 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. Excerpted by permission from Names of Women of the Bible. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Hey Detroit, Windsor -- and Internet Radio Listeners

2010-09-27T15:13:00.001-05:00

Hi friends,

I'll be live on WMUZ, Radio, on Wednesday, September 29 -- doing a call-in show on caring for aging parents with Dr. Kenya, Prescriptions for Hope.

I hope you'll tune in--either on air, or by internet. WMUZ is 103.5 in Detroit. http://www.wmuz.com/. Local time for the broadcast is: 9:45-11 a.m. (8:45 Central).

Hope to talk with you on Wednesday!

Blessings and prayers, Julie © 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

I'm a Guest Blogger at WordSearch Bible Software Blog

2010-09-22T15:14:00.000-05:00

As you've probably noticed by reading the sidebar we put up on this page late last week, my new Bible software collaboration with WORDsearch Bible Software--marking the launch of WS's Women's product line--is in stock and ready for release. To coincide with the launch of this fabulous collection of more than 75 Bible reference resources for only $50, they've invited me to be a guest blogger on their website.

Here's the url: http://www.wordsearchbible.com/blog/

Check it out. Oh, and the free ebook invite in the blog entry goes for you, too.

This is software I've used both devotionally and as an invaluable reference tool in my writing. If you've benefited from what I've written over the years, it's in part due to the research capabilities of WORDsearch. It's a product you'll love, too. I'm both thrilled and humbled to see this particular package of resources (including 9 of my own books) launch.

Just in case you want to place an order, here's where you can learn more about it: http://www.joymediaservices.com/28212.html

Or you can email me at orders@joymediaservices.com

Blessings and prayers, Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Hefty Price to Pay

2010-09-15T14:48:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

Please permit me a bit of musing today—as I work through something that’s been troubling me. Perhaps you’ll see yourself in my dilemma.

One of the most bothersome biblical commands for me has always been the Sabbath rest command.

“Observe the Sabbath day, to keep it holy, as the LORD your God commanded you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, you or your son or your daughter or your male servant or your female servant, or your ox or your donkey or any of your livestock, or the sojourner who is within your gates, that your male servant and your female servant may rest as well as you. You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the LORD your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Therefore the LORD your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day” Deuteronomy 5:12-15 (ESV).

Rest for me, one day in seven. Yeah, right, God, rest? Really? A whole day? Sounds like a luxury, a pipe dream.

Dad’s shots and meds don’t take a rest. Logging his vital signs doesn’t take a rest. The need to get his food to him—the right kind at the right time intervals—none of that rests. The need to make a living so I can, let me see, keep the roof over my head and pay my exorbitant health insurance costs every month—that doesn’t take a rest. So, how can I afford to lose an entire day to something as nonessential as rest? When I have the odd moment to actually get some paying work done, I can’t be bothered worrying about whether that moment comes around on some other day of the week, or on the day of rest set aside for worshipping the Lord and letting my mind reorder and refresh.

Surely, God, You aren’t asking me to rest. Not now! Must be someone else You’re talking to about this.

Perhaps that line of thinking sounds familiar. I know it’s a practiced and oft-repeated monologue I’ve given ad nauseum, in case God is listening. (I suspect He’s not only been listening, but counting the times I’ve defied the command.)

I was giving that monologue, quite by rote, this morning, as I read the Scripture in my devotions—who says I can’t talk and listen at the same time? I’d just completed writing a booklet on the life of one of the last of Judah’s kings, Josiah—so my Bible was still open to his story in 2 Chronicles 34. I read past it to the rest of the chronicler's account, where I found a fast-forward report of what happened to Israel’s monarchy as Josiah’s kids and grandkids, and the people they ruled, ignored God’s commands. And I came across this passage that I can’t recall ever having noticed quite this way before:

The LORD, the God of their fathers, sent persistently to them by his messengers, because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place. But they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the LORD rose against his people, until there was no remedy. Therefore he brought up against them the king of the Chaldeans, who killed their young men with the sword in the house of their sanctuary and had no compassion on young man or virgin, old man or aged. He gave them all into his hand. … And they burned the house of God and broke down the wall of Jerusalem and burned all its palaces with fire and destroyed all its precious vessels. He took into exile in Babylon those who had escaped from the sword, and they became servants to him and to his sons until the establishment of the kingdom of Persia, to fulfill the word of the LORD by the mouth of Jeremiah, until the land had enjoyed its Sabbaths. All the days that it lay desolate it kept Sabbath, to fulfill seventy years (2 Chronicles 36:15-21; ESV).

And here’s what jumped out at me:

• Sabbath wasn’t a punishment, but a privilege. Like all God’s commands, it was given because of His compassion for His people.

• Failure to keep Sabbath had consequences. Maybe it wasn’t only ignoring Sabbath, but breaking other commands, as well, that caused the people’s exile. But surely flouting God’s expressed direction, no matter which command, meant breaking the whole of the law.

• And look at that last verse—the land had to enjoy its Sabbaths. God would see to it. No one would or could live on the land (witness the utter destruction: the wall, the palaces, the precious vessels, even the very house of God all burned, broken down, uninhabitable.) The Lord would see to it that the land got its Sabbath—down to the last year that it had endured the transgression of ignored Sabbaths.

• This fulfilled a promise God had made through Moses back in Leviticus, which I found when I used my ESV’s cross-reference: “Then the land shall enjoy its Sabbaths as long as it lies desolate, while you are in your enemies’ land; then the land shall rest, and enjoy its Sabbaths. As long as it lies desolate it shall have rest, the rest that it did not have on your Sabbaths when you were dwelling in it" (Leviticus 26:34-35; ESV).

Now, the only conclusion we can draw from seeing this truth from God’s Word is that for some reason the provision of a one-in-seven (days and years) rest is of vital importance to Him. It’s something He built into creation. And it’s something that—while it doesn’t come to us naturally, lay itself out for us for the easy taking—we can't risk ignoring.

It won't surprise you that I’m not ready to shut down my computer and give it a Sabbath year (actually, it would have to be a couple of Sabbath years—I’ve been in the writing ministry for 25 years without one; mathematicians, help me out here, that would be how many Sabbath years missed?). But I’m ready to commit to taking a day a week completely out of the office—away from voicemail, email, blogging, Facebook, Microsoft Office, the whole lot of it. Maybe it’ll be Sunday, traditionally the day of worship for those who celebrate the death and resurrection of Christ. Maybe Saturday, as the Israelites celebrated it back in the chronicler’s day. Maybe another day—gasp—when clients may be in their offices and clamoring for my attention.

But it seems to me I’ve been playing with fire by ignoring this command. And I’d be well advised (after seeing the enormity of the price His people paid for ignoring any or all of His commands) to repent, to agree to change my ways, and to do it—as Christ gives me the strength to comply.

Does any of this self-correcting musing ring true for you? If it does, will you take up the challenge to do something about it? And ... if you don't mind, could I ask you to help hold me accountable to do what I've promised? I'm willing to do the same for you, if you ask.

Sheepishly and prayerfully,

Julie

A personal note:
Next week I’ll be guest blogger on the WORDsearch website’s blog, as part of the roll-out of my brand new Bible software package: The Julie-Allyson Ieron Bible Reference Collection, powered by WORDsearch 9.0. Please visit my website to learn more about this fantastic product that could revolutionize and energize your reading of God’s Word. Here’s the link to find out more: http://www.joymediaservices.com/28212.html

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Apt Accompaniment to Work

2010-09-03T08:02:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

I’ve often noticed that the quality of my work (often the quantity, too) is enhanced by what I’m hearing while I’m at work. For example, when I write, I listen to instrumental praise, jazz, blues or symphonic music—with tunes I recognize, but few words to distract me.

Then there is the music I save for tasks I hate—scrubbing the bathroom, vacuuming, dusting, anything that requires the wafting fragrance of bleach, detergents or ammonia. For those moments when I can’t procrastinate those tasks any longer, I have a selection of music on my MP3 player and a station on my Pandora favorites, both of which feature music to clean by. It’s all upbeat, energetic, pulsing and thrumming; and it moves me right along with it. It’s music that makes me smile. It engages my attention so that, instead of grumbling about what I have to do, I’m swinging and bopping and (forgive me for saying it) even dancing to it.

The same goes for my three-times-weekly workout. If I hate cleaning, well, there’s no word in the English language strong enough to describe how I feel about sweating. But the music DVDs on our workout room TV (including Michael W. Smith’s Worship) so capture my attention, that I nearly (I did say nearly) forget about the drudgery of pacing mile after mile on the black rubber belt of the treadmill, “passing” the same scenery. Doing what’s good for me, what’s expedient, is easier because of music.

I hadn’t realized it until today, but as I was reading 2 Chronicles 34 in preparation for a writing project (related to the upcoming release of my new software package, The Julie-Allyson Ieron Bible Reference Collection on WORDsearch 9), I came across a passage that makes my practice of matching music to my daily tasks positively biblical.

The setting is that King Josiah has collected money to repair God’s house, after it had been defiled and profaned by a string of godless kings who preceded him. (The “it” in the passage, is this money earmarked for the repairs):

Then they entrusted it to the men appointed to supervise the work on the LORD's temple. These men paid the workers who repaired and restored the temple. They also gave money to the carpenters and builders to purchase dressed stone, and timber for joists and beams for the buildings that the kings of Judah had allowed to fall into ruin. The men did the work faithfully. Over them to direct them were Jahath and Obadiah, Levites descended from Merari, and Zechariah and Meshullam, descended from Kohath. The Levites--all who were skilled in playing musical instruments-- had charge of the laborers and supervised all the workers from job to job (2 Chronicles 34:10-13a, NIV).

The passage connects the faithful work (other translations add the concept of working with integrity)¸ with the leadership offered by skilled musicians. Music to work by. To hoist joists and beams; to dress the stones, to polish the door knobs, whatever needed to be done. These folks composed and played music appropriate to the tasks. God gifted them with music to accompany the work.

I suppose that translates well to the difficult tasks related to caregiving. Dispensing meds. Cleaning up messes. Bathing wounds. Holding someone’s hand while softly humming away the pain. This music probably won’t be the boisterous tune I dance my way through as I vacuum. It may be a soothing instrumental, passionate blues, or—perhaps best of all—inspiring worship that leads us to lift our eyes, minds, and hearts to the Creator and Sustainer, Who offers us the hope that this aging process, this physical pain or deterioration, isn’t all there is. There is a reality clouded for us now, but it’s more real than anything that touches us here—and it’s more lasting than anything we see or hear or feel in this realm. It’s a world with no more tears, no more pain, no more sorrow, no more good-byes at all. A place of all joy, health, companionship, and “hellos.” A place of endless music to make work fulfilling and energized.

Even if it’s music heard only by you, in the privacy of your own heart, I encourage you to sing to the Lord today—from a worshipping heart, as you go about your caregiving tasks. I promise it’ll help you do your work with faithfulness, energy—even God-pleasing integrity—as it did for the workers in God’s house during Josiah’s reign.

My prayer for you is a song in your heart all day long.

Blessings and prayers, Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Talking to Myself

2010-08-23T09:39:00.001-05:00

Treasured friend,

Tell me you've never done it--talk to yourself, I mean. Commit me to a rubber room if you want to, but I have to confess that I do it from time to time. Mostly to bolster my courage--mostly to remind myself that this is only a season, and that grace to survive comes to those who ask.

It seems I'm in good company. Not just you, I mean. But also at least one hero of the faith: David. Don't believe me? Read it for yourself. Psalm 27. It's a passage we've examined before, but it's worth revisiting today.

It opens with David's self talk. We don't know why he wrote this psalm--what circumstance he found himself in that required him to say outloud that the Lord is still faithful--even when life conspires to make us think otherwise. But he did need this reminder, which he makes obvious right from the opening:

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1; ESV).

Tell me, soul--
you know God and His faithfulness,
His fairness,
His strength and His sustaining grace.
So, compared to Him and all His attributes,
what are these pesky little circumstances
and why are you allowing them to frighten you?

That's a question I had to ask myself this week. Because circumstances were conspiring against me. I felt I was in the enemy's crosshairs--and was being shot down from at least three directions. Amid the caregiving responsibilities that have been marking my days, I've been trying to conduct my business and personal affairs as "business as usual." If you're a caregiver you've been there, most certainly. Your loved one has been fed, medications adminstered, and you have an hour during his rest time (before the next mealtime and medication) to do what would normally take 8 hours--or 10 or 12.

It's a precarious balance. And when one element unfolds differently than expected, the scale tips--and creates a soul-toxic mess. When someone challenges, expresses disappointment, even worse falsely accuses--well I know last week I felt like changing my name to Hannah Hurnard's classic main character, "Much Afraid" (from Hinds Feet on High Places). Overwhelmed didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. It was debilitating and abject fear. The kind that keeps you up nights, clammy, shivering, and quivering with anxious thoughts.

That's why David's self-talk spoke directly to me. The entire psalm is full of it.

When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident. One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple (Psalm 27:2-4; ESV).

Then there's the end--the last self-reminder:

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living! Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD! (Psalm 27:13-14; ESV).

It is a powerful statement of faith ... I believe that something other than what I see and feel is the whole, unmitigated truth.

Reminding myself of the circumstances that might have prompted David to speak this truth aloud, I began to take courage. David was hunted down mercilessly and forced to live in deserts and caves. Anointed king by a wanted man. Betrayed by a family member. Forgiven a debt he couldn't repay. And yet, he could say, "I believe I'll be able to look at God's goodness once again in this life."

And I found myself speaking it to my own soul.

The Lord saves. The Lord delivers.

No one can challenge Him.

Oh my frightened soul, be strong and courageous.

God will work on your behalf once again.

Take refuge in His strength,

in His comfort and companionship,

in His absolute sufficiency and goodness.

My friend, if this is a message you needed to hear today--take heart. Because the Lord hasn't changed. The God of David--the faithful one, the God of salvation--He is mine and He is yours. He offers you His faithfulness, He wants to be the God of your salvation today. Remind yourself of the one who is on your side, fighting your battles beside you--for you and with you.

If you need to, give yourself a good talking to as I did to myself: This is the one you serve, so there's no reason to panic. Be strong, take courage, wait for the Lord.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Earth-shaking Pray-ers

2010-08-12T10:13:00.002-05:00

Treasured friend,

If you read this blog regularly, you know that I am several days delinquent in posting this devotional thought. It has been a harrowing 10 days in our household—a blur of ER cubicles, hospital wards, nurses, needles, tests, specialists, frightening words like diabetes and heart failure, and long words like cardioversion and tachycardia. At the moment, we are fully in the caregiving mode, but are seeing good results--from the meds, and more likely, from the prayers of our friends and family who once again are supporting us through these crisis moments.

Perhaps that’s one reason this Scripture passage in the book of Acts struck me in a new way this morning. It’s found in Acts 4. And I don’t think I ever read it quite this way before. The setting is that, in Jesus’ name, Peter and John have delivered God’s miraculous healing to a crippled beggar in the crowded streets of Jerusalem. Throngs of everyday people were in awe, and they praised God. But the religious elite felt their influence slipping away—and they were livid. They dragged the disciples in and rebuked them for preaching in the name of Jesus. (Yes, His name will always be an offense to the enemy—it was in New Testament times, and it is yet today.)

Peter and John responded with the classic line, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:19-20).

That’s typically where I leave off the reading—and stand in wonder at the wisdom and courage God gives to His faithful followers in a time of great challenge. And it’s true, He does give it in abundance. But that’s not the end of the scene. Just a few moments later, when the rulers can’t decide on a course of action, they release Peter and John.

Where do these godly men turn in this moment? They go back to the gathered believers and report on this frightening turn of events. And that’s where the story picks up energy:

When they heard this, they raised their voices together in prayer to God. "Sovereign Lord," they said, "you made the heaven and the earth and the sea, and everything in them. You spoke by the Holy Spirit through the mouth of your servant, our father David: "'Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the Lord and against his Anointed One.

Indeed Herod and Pontius Pilate met together with the Gentiles and the people of Israel in this city to conspire against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed. They did what your power and will had decided beforehand should happen. Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness. Stretch out your hand to heal and perform miraculous signs and wonders through the name of your holy servant Jesus."

After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly. Acts 4:24-31 (NIV)

When they were challenged beyond their ability, when they were frightened and maybe even quaking a bit inside, Peter and John didn’t retreat to neutral corners. Not at all. They retreated home—home where the believers were gathered—for encouragement and strength. In the communion of fellow followers of Christ, they found their first and only true refuge.

And what did the believers do? Immediately, they turned to the Father in prayer. Together. With voices “raised.” This wasn’t a timid prayer. An if-You-wanted-to-You-might-want-to-get-involved-here approach to the Holy Throne.

When they heard all about the crisis in their brothers’ lives, they prayed with authority.

God, you have the power. God, you even prepared us with King David’s words about the plots of the rulers against God’s anointed written so many millennia ago. It’s happening here and now. So, we ask You to equip us—and our brothers in Christ. Encourage us. Let us speak boldly. Confirm our words with Your blessing, even Your miracles.

In the solace of the gathered faithful and in the beauty of corporate prayer, God’s Spirit moved with power and answered their prayer by granting all of them boldness of speech they’d never have been able to conjure up on their own.

Which brings me back to the events of the week in our household. When it became apparent we needed to rush Dad to ER, I zapped a really short, crisis email to a caregiver prayer circle to which I belong. I CC’d a few select colleagues. And an inexplicable peace came over me. Sure, I prayed. We three prayed in the car on the way to the hospital. But we needed more. We needed the prayers of the saints joined with us. One friend put us on her church’s prayer chain. Others sent emails throughout the day, just letting us know they were standing with us in prayer.

And God’s hand moved—by giving Dad favor with the triage team (where other times we’ve had to wait hours to be seen by ER doctors, this day we were ushered in and cared for in the blink of an eye), by assigning the right doctors, by giving wisdom to take the right tests and know what to do with the answers. We weren’t delivered from the crisis, but we were given courage, wisdom, boldness and God’s equipping presence through it. I’m quite certain this came as a result of the united prayers of the saints.

Look back at how Luke reports God's response to the united prayers in Acts: the Spirit actually came down and shook the room where the believers were united in intercessory prayer. And He is the same, today. He moves on the scene supernaturally, in response to the prayers of His righteous ones. We saw it firsthand this week.

Where does that leave us as caregivers—as those who may often feel like we’re all alone in the crisis du jour? I think it gives us a powerful reminder of how much we need fellow believers, praying believers, those whose hotline to heaven is open on both ends all day, every day. Let’s be that praying support group for each other—and let’s turn quickly and immediately to that support when we hit our next moment of challenge.

Blessings and prayers for you today, in your moments of special challenge,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Prison Praise

2010-08-01T10:40:00.004-05:00

Treasured friend,

Today, a lovely rendition of the Selah song, "I Bless Your Name" sent me back to Scripture, to the book of Acts, chapter 16. The scene, during the early days of the church, is one where Christians were under intense persecution--particularly those Christians on the front lines of ministry who were working in the strength of the Holy Spirit to push back the gates of hell and set spiritual prisoners free.

It wasn't a pretty scene. In fact two prominent leaders, Paul and Silas had been beaten with rods, thrown into a primitive jail and bound tightly, with their feet confined to stocks.

Now, let me stop and say that most of us in the free world aren't subjected to these extremes of suffering or persecution for the cause of Christ (although some have suffered the loss of prestige, a voice in popular culture, even possibly a job or a loved one--simply because they claim the name of Christ). But, even most of us who are exhausted, overworked, underappreciated caregivers aren't in as dire a position as Paul and Silas were that night.

And so, we pick up the story at midnight ... the darkest hour, the farthest from daylight--the time when the problems of the day grow disproportionately large and loom like overwhelming shadows in the gloom ... and so at midnight, let's let the Word take us into the scene:

About midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them ... (v. 25, HCSB)

Two things strike me here. For the first observation, let's look at the end of the verse--the other prisoners were paying attention to what was going on in Paul's cell. There were others, in chains. While there might have been other believers chained up for the cause of Christ, it's more likely those other prisoners were guilty of crimes against Rome that from a human perspective deserved severe punishment. And these worldly guys, I picture them rough and seething with anger--vile and smelly from their sinful ways and their grungy cells--these guys are hushed and listening to what Paul and Silas are saying and doing down the cell block.

And what are they doing? That's the amazing second observation. The situation is hopeless, right? God let them be captured by heathens and abused. They're really gonna let Him have a piece of their minds, right?

Nope!

They're praying and singing hymns. What? Oh, come on. Nobody could be that spiritual. Praising God and worshipping Him from that smelly, stinky, vile cell? Their only crime doing His work?

But that's what people attuned to God's higher purposes do. They praise Him and bless His name even when they don't understand the extreme circumstances He's allowing to unfold in their lives.

The end of the story is that while they're praising and praying, God shakes the earth to the foundation of the jail, and everything changes. Prison doors shake open--can you imagine the force of that quake?

Anyway, the doors shake open--all of them, the ones confining the guilty and the ones confining God's servants--and the chains shackeling everyone in the prison come undone. Doesn't seem like just a run-of-the-mill earthquake could do that. Kinda gives you a new appreciation for the power of the hand of God.

Paul and Silas and the other prisoners were all loosed--at the moment when God's praises were ringing out in the abject darkness.

Rather than escaping (that's what I'd have done--I'd have high-tailed it out of there and allowed myself to fade back into the midnight darkness under cover of the chaos that would certainly follow), Paul and Silas stayed around.

Acts 16:29-34 (HCSB) Then the jailer called for lights, rushed in, and fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. Then he escorted them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” So they said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your household.” Then they spoke the message of the Lord to him along with everyone in his house. He took them the same hour of the night and washed their wounds. Right away he and all his family were baptized. He brought them into his house, set a meal before them, and rejoiced because he had believed God with his entire household.

Because they stayed rather than running, they both saved the jailer's life and led him (and his household) to faith in Christ. The jailer who'd abused them became their brother in Christ, because they didn't bail out and save themselves. And the night they began in chains, ended in a baptismal service--with a whole household professing faith in Christ.

God orchestrated a tremendously trying set of circumstances, and He used the faithfulness of His servants despite their own suffering to move the kingdom of heaven forward--and to storm the gates of the spiritual prison holding onto the many souls who came to faith as a result.

I suppose this passage indicts me so powerfully today because I'm much more of a complainer than a praiser. I get it that the prisoners were still up at midnight--frequently I'm up at midnight and beyond, too. But usually, I'm up worrying. I might pray when my midnight circumstances (though much more cushy then Paul and Silas') seem out of control--but my prayer would likely come off more like a two-year-old's whining than a mature believer's prayer of faith and worship of the Almighty.

Yet, this passage has issued a challenge for me today. Perhaps you'll hold me accountable, so that the next time I'm awake and in trouble at the midnight hour, I'm going to make an effort to be praising instead of whining. And, while an earthquake-sized change in my circumstances might sound appealing, even if it doesn't come, I'll praise Him just the same.

May this passage of the Word challenge and encourage you today, as well.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

News Tidbit: for those who are taking the plunge into e-book reading (on Kindle, Sony, IPhones, and more), 5 of Julie's books are now available in ebook format. Click on the link in this entry to learn more--and to purchase copies of each book for $9.99 -- to download right into your ebook reader. If you haven't gotten a handheld reader yet, no worries, you can download an e-reader for your laptop or desktop computer free--today. Email Julie for more info.

Julie's ebook ordering info

A Wet Walk

2010-07-24T11:08:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

A few weeks ago I intended to get us back to Matthew 14--to the scene where Jesus walks on the water in the middle of a storm to get to His disciples. I got sidetracked on a couple of other meaningful passages (not the least of which was last week's between-the-eyes hit on the necessity of rest--which I needed desperately--I suspect you might have needed it, as well). But I do want to come back to Matthew 14 today.

Here's the passage:

Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He dismissed the crowds. After dismissing the crowds, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone. But the boat was already over a mile from land, battered by the waves, because the wind was against them. Around three in the morning, He came toward them walking on the sea.

When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost!” they said, and cried out in fear.

Immediately Jesus spoke to them. “Have courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Lord, if it’s You,” Peter answered Him, “command me to come to You on the water.”

“Come!” He said.

And climbing out of the boat, Peter started walking on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the strength of the wind, he was afraid. And beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus reached out His hand, caught hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. Then those in the boat worshiped Him and said, “Truly You are the Son of God!” Matthew 14:22-33 (HCSB)

I guess I love this passage so much because I see both what I am (in Peter leaping out in faith, thinking better of it, sinking, and crying out for Christ's help) and what I could be (in Jesus creating a space for His quiet, intimate, personal relationship with His Father in the midst of a chaotic and exhausting season of life).

More often I'm sinking and crying out in desperation than intentionally carving out a time and place for communing with my Father in heaven. Perhaps you are too. Reacting to the crises roiling around you. Leaping out on the water and praying there will be rocks under foot to keep you from drowning--not realizing there was no trick to walking on water--only well-placed, unwavering faith in the Son of God.

I love that Jesus works with the little faith of Peter--and of each of us. He doesn't chide Peter ahead of time for not having enough faith to follow through with the whole walk. Even though He knows how it's going to unfold, He doesn't keep Peter from making the leap. He sustains the miracle so Peter does indeed take a few steps out there on the water (the only other human ever recorded to have done so, other than Jesus Himself).

And when Peter's faith peters out (it had to be said), He doesn't say, Peter, you have no faith, or your faith is of absolutely no use. Just , my friend you have small faith, weak faith, "little" faith -- enough to start, which is good (better than the others still cowering in the rocking and rolling boat) -- but not enough to finish. It's great, though, that Christ does have the supply of what we lack. He simply reached out and lifted His disciple to safety. And, do note that Peter knew enough to call out for Christ to save him as he sunk into the white caps of the stormy lake.

That, I suppose is the most powerful observation from the scene. Jesus has the power to lift us to safety--not just barely, as if the effort of it will put Him in peril or drain His strength supplies--but plenty of power to lift each of us out of the waves, limitless power, unsappable power, uninterruptible power to carry us to safety in the storm and through the storm. Ultimately, as with the end of this scene, to overcome and calm the storm--and in so doing to bring honor and glory to Himself. And He is as near to us as to Peter--near enough to hear us when we call; near enough to offer His strong arm to keep us from sinking in defeat.

Another passage I've been reading for a writing project I'm doing today is from the Gospel of John (chapter 9) where Jesus heals the man born blind--after His disciples want to know whether the man's sins or his parents' caused his blindness. I love that Jesus sluffs off that question entirely and points out that the man's suffering will result in ultimate glory for the Son and His Father in heaven. It's nobody's business what got him there. Only that God has a plan in and through it--one that's good for the man and good for the King's reputation.

That's the way I want to see the storms I'm facing today--through the eyes of faith--even if it is Peter's "little" faith. Even then, it's well-placed faith in the Christ Who not only walks on the water to meet the disciples in the storm, but holds the power to bring them through safely and restore calm to all the forces of nature at work against them.

Perhaps the key to that healthy and God-centered outlook comes at the opening of the scene: in getting away quietly to be alone with God. To seek His perspective. To ask His wise counsel. To submit to His ultimate authority over my life and that of my loved ones.

If you have more thoughts on this passage and how it speaks to you, I'd love to hear them. Post a comment here, or drop me an email at conferences@joymediaservices.com. I'd love to know how God is at work in your life through the challenge and encouragement of His Word.

Blessings,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Email from God

2010-07-13T10:26:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

I know that title must sound rather odd—especially coming from me. But I’m pretty sure I received one last week--an email from God, that is.

I know I’ve mentioned it to you on many occasions, but it bears repeating here that my work load has been heavy since mid-winter. I’ve been juggling project deadlines in between shuttling my dad to doctor visits and trying to do my share of household work—including a portion of what used to be “his” work.

It was Thursday around 2 o’clock. I had been writing all day—about seven hours at that point. That’s a pretty intense assignment. And it probably surpassed the wise max for one sitting. But all I knew was I had so much more to get done—it was a rare day without doctors or other interruptions (even the dinner was made already), so I had to capture those hours to move the paying work forward.

The only problem was I was slowing down from fatigue. No, more than that—I was weary to the bone. My head was throbbing. Unconsciously, I brought my hands up to massage my throbbing temples. I’m so tired, I moaned.

That’s when the email dinged. Now, I’m usually pretty disciplined about letting it ding all it wants and ignoring it until I’m done writing. But for some reason, when my right hand returned to the mouse, I clicked open Outlook and found the new email. It was a weekly devotional I receive from the Assemblies of God Women’s Ministries department—designed especially for Women @ Work. The headline read:

The Rest of Your Life

And the subhead read:

Coffee Breaks Are Not Optional

It might as well have been flashing neon. I read on:

Learning to work well is great, but working well is not sufficient to create a balanced life; we must also learn how to stop working. That’s called rest. … It was on God’s Top Ten List.

You know, I found myself thinking, I may not have too much trouble with some of the commands on that list: don’t murder—sure, no problem. Don’t steal—okay, what’s not mine doesn’t belong in my sticky fingers. Honor your parents—I’m working at that every day. Don’t take God’s name in vain—got it—I love that Name, and will work not to do or say anything that would discredit that Name. But Sabbath rest? I’m pretty-much too busy to get that one covered. Surely, God you didn’t mean for me to worry about that one.

As I read more of the devotional, I was reminded of the command from God that all of us rest—regularly and intentionally. And I found a bullet-list of warning signs that I’m not up to snuff on that particular command: mental fatigue (check); irritability (check); anxiety (check). Kinda like looking in the mirror.

So, I considered the emailed article, written by Ed Gungor, pretty much an email from God, sent from Ed’s keyboard. And I did a little homework on rest. I found a great challenge in the book of Hebrews.

So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. Hebrews 4:9-13 (ESV)

This passage attributes to God an invitation to His children to enter the gift of His rest. Rest is a privilege He offers—and a failure to accept this offer He considers an affront—a sin, every bit as appalling to Him as our failure to keep any of the other commands. Failure to rest is disobedience—plain and simple. It amounts to crossing the Word—and it will pierce me to the bone. God won’t let it slide.

But God …I began. Then I stopped. No “buts” allowed. I pushed back from the keyboard; shut off the monitor; and went to the family room to rest. Was it convenient? Nope. Was it in the schedule? Nope. Was it without cost? Nope. Was is necessary? You bet! Because I never want to be found on the wrong side of the Word—and when I give account to God one day, I want it to be a joyful moment, not a shameful one.

My prayer is that this challenge will be one you’ll take to heart, as well.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Relentless Pursuit of God

2010-07-06T15:14:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

I had intended to return to Matthew 14 for this week’s devotional thought – but as I was reading devotionally myself in Isaiah 26, a passage jumped out and ministered to my heart – so I thought I’d share it with you today. (Perhaps next week we’ll return to Matthew 14—where Jesus walks on the water—because there’s some meat there to sustain us, as well.)

Now, on to Isaiah 26, beginning with v. 7:

The path of the righteous is level; You clear a straight path for the righteous. Yes, Yahweh, we wait for You in the path of Your judgments. Our desire is for Your name and renown. I long for You in the night; yes, my spirit within me diligently seeks You, for when Your judgments are ⌊in⌋ the land, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness (Isaiah 26:7-9, HCSB).

The heading for the section in my translation is “God’s People Vindicated.” And I love that. The injustice and suffering that swirls around us in this world of exhaustion isn’t getting the last word. And it isn’t as out of control as it feels. God is at work—sometimes, as in the case of His faithful servant Job, His hand clearing a path for our feet is deeply hidden behind the scenes—but He is there, at work and ready to meet the righteous on their path of seeking Him.

I love that the passage gives us a defining picture of the abstract concept of righteousness. It’s not sinless perfection—none of us could ever claim that. But it is a passionate desire for God’s renown—God’s reputation. It is an adoring, zealous seeking of Him—even in desperate times when He seems so tragically far removed from us. A pursuit of Him leads us in the paths of righteousness—the paths that are level and straight. It sounds a lot like Psalm 23: “He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake” (NKJV).

The picture in my mind is of a bruised but persistent hunter: panting, gasping, wheezing through the dark underbrush of a dense forest in the dead of night—even then undeterred because she’s hot on the trail of God. Never giving up the pursuit—not when scarred by thorns or thistles; not when chewed up by deep-woods insects; not when tailed by blood-thirsty predators.
I want to be that brand of righteous person, whose path God can ultimately level, as I seek Him that ardently.

As I read and studied further, I went to my Life Application Bible Notes on the passage, where I found this comment:

At times the "path" of the righteous doesn't seem smooth, and it isn't easy to do God's will, but we are never alone when we face tough times. God is there to help us, to comfort us, and to lead us. God does this by giving us a purpose (keeping our mind centered on him, 26:3 [we studied that verse on Father’s Day; Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because He trusteth in Thee.]) and giving us provisions as we travel. God provides us with relationships of family, friends, and mentors. God gives us wisdom to make decisions and faith to trust him. Don't despair; stay on God's path.

I suppose I needed that challenge and encouragement this week, as our family suffered the terrible shock of the unexpected death of one of our own—my dear aunt. As all of you who have suffered a similar loss know, in those hours, we are more obviously desperate for God’s face, for His wisdom, for His provision of faith to battle the crouching enemy of despair.

I know this passage encouraged me to keep pursuing God in righteousness, even when I don’t understand what He’s “up to” in my life, and in the lives of my beloved ones.

May you find hope there today, as well.

Blessings,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Jesus, the Caregiver

2010-06-28T09:46:00.002-05:00

Treasured friend,

Jesus is sad, grieving, exhausted. He has received word that His forerunner and cousin John the Baptist was brutally beheaded by Herod. In His grief he tries to go away privately to a solitary place, so He boards a boat. And yet the crowd won't let Him go. They are needy. They are demanding. They are persistent. They are quick--for they follow on foot, by land, arriving as He does by boat. They number into the many thousands (five thousand men, alone, not to mention women and children).

If you or I had been in that situation, I wonder whether we'd have stayed on the boat and put out to another place-- even to the middle of the lake -- anywhere to get away and lick our wounds.

But not our Lord. Listen for the way eyewitness Matthew records His response:

When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick (Matthew 14:14; NIV).

He saw their need and set aside His human weakness to serve them--to meet their needs. All because of His compassion. Imagine the depth of love that would allow Him to transcend His grief to reach out to the people who trudged through the sands and dust to the solitary place--just to be near Him. It's a love I confess I don't understand. For when I'm grieving, I understand the drive to get to the solitary place--to that point, I'm with my Lord. But unlike His gracious, loving response--woe to anyone who gets in the way of my private moments of sorrow--I demand the right of indulging in a protracted season of sulky depression.

But not our Lord. He heals. He teaches. He touches. Because of that overflowing heart of compassion for His desperate creatures.

The next surprise comes that He keeps on healing and teaching and touching late into the evening. Far past His own meal time -- and theirs. The disciples, ever practical, see it, although the Lord seems to ignore the obvious. Finally, after trying to signal Him from their perches around the perimeter, they come up close. They stage-whisper to Him, "Send the people away. They need food -- and the village shops around here will be closing soon." Their own stomachs are growling--and they know just what resources they have--just enough food for them to have a bite each. A little to share with the Master and the inner circle. But it would be rude to eat in front of the crowd.

Imagine their shock when Jesus commands them, "You, give them something to eat" (v. 16).

What? We have barely enough for a bit each for ourselves! What are you thinking?

Jesus, the compassionate is also Jesus, the Master. And in His role as Master of the Universe, He takes charge (probably with a disappointed shake of His head at the doltish responses of those who have walked closest to Him all these months). "Bring them to me," He tells the disciples when they show Him a teensy supply of loaves and fishes. You know the story, Jesus taps into the resources of Heaven to multiply five loaves and two fish to meet and surpass the need--for after everyone is full to capacity, twelve baskets full remain (one for each disciple, ironically).

It's not the supply that makes this story, though. It is the heart of the Master that is so willing to provide for the needs of those who seek Him out. He's still the same, today. Although the food and healing touch may come to us in different forms, all the provision of resources we so desperately need as we care for our loved ones, all of it comes from His willing, compassionate, gracious hand.

Yet (I speak only for myself, now; take from it what you will for your own life) as I receive those resources from Him, I am tempted to hoard them like the disciples, rather than giving them away like Christ did. I see only the limits of my abilities--of my resources--and seeing the limits, I'm miserly in releasing them, lest I run out and starve myself. Again, like the disciples. Be reasonable, Jesus! You can't expect me to give them what I don't have.

His response echoes down the hall to my office this morning, Bring what you do have to Me. That's when He will bless it and multiply it and make it more than enough to meet the need around me. But I have to be willing to share. I have to be willing to take on the selfless compassion of the heart of our Heavenly Caregiver -- only then will I be the conduit for the Lord's miraculous provision to those around me who desperately need a touch, a word of kindness, and many acts of loving service.

Jesus, the Caregiver of Matthew 14, has much to teach me -- and perhaps you, as well. Today, it was a lesson about selflessness I guess I needed most.

Take a moment to read the entire passage, Matthew 14:13-21, and see what He has to offer you today.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

My Father's Favorite Scripture

2010-06-20T20:14:00.002-05:00

Treasured Friend,

In honor of Father's Day, I thought I'd share with you this evening my dad's life-Scripture. When I was a child, we used to sing it as a chorus in our church. In fact, I learned it that way before I ever knew it was straight out of the Word. When I wanted to do something nice for Daddy on Sunday evening, I'd summon my courage during the song and testimony service and with all the effort my little introverted heart could muster I'd call out the number of the chorus -- Thou Wilt Keep Him in Perfect Peace. The congregation would sing it (Mom would be beaming away at the piano!), and Daddy would snuggle me close under his arm.

The Scripture in the old King James version says this:

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. (Isaiah 26:3)

I, of course, prefer a contemporary translation ... but the truth remains unchanged. These days, I really enjoy reading the Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB) -- because its fresh turn of phrase attracts and holds my attention -- leaving me less likely to gloss over what I've read so often, leaving me less sure that I already know what the Word has to say to me. Here is the way HCSB translates this timeless truth:

You will keep the mind that is dependent on You in perfect peace, for it is trusting in You.

A mind in perfect peace -- made possible through child-like trust in the dependable Creator/Savior/Father/Friend.

In our household, we've appropriated that Scripture in countless ways. In pre-op wards, when we didn't know whether we'd see each other again this side of eternity. In times of financial challenge. In times of physical separation due to work-related travel or (in days gone by) when miles separated us while I was away getting my education.

What a testimony of a life lived for Christ -- sure trouble and trials and challenges come, but the mind doesn't need to be in turmoil. It can stay in peace -- even perfect peace -- because of well-placed trust. Trust in the only One worthy of our dependence.

I can't think of a more appropriate life verse -- or one with a greater legacy attached to it. God is faithful. Not only does He provide His presence in us and with us, His direction, His love and grace and forgiveness -- but He offers us the sure dependability of His peace guarding our hearts and minds -- through Christ Jesus our Lord.

May the truth here in Isaiah's prophecy about God's unchanging nature be a source of comfort -- and especially of peace -- to you no matter what challenges face you today.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Brief Prayer of Faith

2010-06-06T06:50:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

Sometimes all there is to say, as you approach the God of the universe in prayer, is:

I love You, Lord—and because I love You, I trust You.

I’m having one of those moments this morning, as I write. Fatigue (after weeks and months of overtime work), relief (over a deadline met, at last), frenetic activity (in the midst of a long, wearisome, but productive business trip), worry (about Dad’s health, and now his elder sister’s, especially while I'm such a distance from them), more questions than answers (about decisions to make and next steps to take).

Perhaps this Lord’s Day finds you, too, in a time when it’s hard to form the words to a single prayer of more than those two sentences. Wanting to pray in God’s will for our loved ones, our work, our ministries—and having no idea what’s best for them, what God’s good and acceptable and perfect will is for them. Asking, even desperately so, to hear from the Lord--and yet hearing only the sounds of waiting and waiting alone, the sounds of silence. Yet, there are decisions to be made—and somewhere we need to find the wisdom to make them.

That’s when we need to make an affirmation of faith, to which we may well ascent with our minds, and tremble before with our hearts: This one thing I know, God is faithful. The Psalmist had much the same experience—and yet he penned these faith-filled words,

Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud; be gracious to me and answer me! You have said, "Seek my face." My heart says to you, "Your face, LORD, do I seek." …

Teach me your way, O LORD, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. …

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living! Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD! Psalm 27:7-8, 11, 13-14 (ESV)

I, too, believe that when we seek His face, He will answer—in fact, He relishes the moments when His beloved children come to the point where they must seek His face; they can do nothing else.

As I approach worship this morning, I’ll be seeking His face. And I’ll listen for His voice inviting:

Let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

Master of the Calm

2010-05-30T16:11:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

Throughout this week I've been in desperate need of rest ... because of work obligations and deadlines, and more so because of sleep depravation (partially due to worrying about Dad's health and my friends' parents' deteriorating conditions far into the wee hours of the mornings).

In that state of mind, I found myself proofreading final pages for the soon-to-be released updated edition of my book, Conquering the Time Factor. I ran across this passage -- and it spoke to me right where I was. Somehow, I thought it might minister to you, as well. So, here 'tis.

Rest. It is an endangered commodity in this chaotic twenty first century. And yet, chaos cannot snuff out true rest. Don’t believe me? If you have a Bible nearby, take a quick read through Mark 4:36-41. It’s the story of Jesus and His disciples in a boat in the middle of a storm. The disciples respond to the storm just as I would—with disquiet and fear, straining at the oars, trying to survive the situation with brute strength bolstered by huge surges of adrenaline. Their spirits are in an agitated state that is the antithesis of rest.

Jesus, on the other hand, well let’s read how He responds in verse 38: “Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion.” It’s always bugged me that Jesus could be so calm, so at rest, in the middle of a storm. While He’s enjoying a cushy, comfortable sleep, the boat is being swamped with squalls and assaulted by violent air currents. When the petrified disciples finally succeed in rousing the Master, He stands, looks around, tells the waves to be quiet and sits back down—reproaching the disciples for their lack of faith. And I’m left shaking my head. You see, He hasn’t changed. He’s still calm in addressing my life storms today. He’s calm, while I’m an absolute wreck. Jesus, how can you be so CALM? It’s a storm. It’s scary. That lightning packs a punch! It’s bigger than I am. And it’s out of control. Don’t you care?

It shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus is calm in a storm, and that He can bring calm to a storm. It shouldn’t surprise us because the God of the Old Testament is also surrounded by a calm. Consider how God showed Himself to the prophet Elijah.

The LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:11-13)

When He appeared to Elijah, God allowed the shattering wind and the earthquake and the fire to precede Him, but He Himself was in the calm, not in the chaos. And it wasn’t until the quiet came that His gentle whisper was evident.

And so, my exhausted fellow caregiver, I challenge you to use at least a sliver of what's left of this Lord's Day to find a place of calm and quiet to refresh your body--as well as your soul. It will be there if you listen and look for it. You'll find this gift awaiting you, from the quiet-yet-ample provision of your gracious Savior.

I'll be doing the same--you can hold me to it. In fact, I wish you would.

Excerpted by permission from Conquering the Time Factor: Twelve Myths that Steal Life's Precious Moments. (c) 2002, 2010 by Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission or to order the entire book in print, e-book, or audio editions, contact: orders@joymediaservices.com.

Tune in to "Focus on the Family" Friday May 28

2010-05-24T11:25:00.000-05:00

Julie Interviewed on Caregiving Topic ...

‘Focus on the Family’ May 28!

The big news is that Julie’s Overwhelmed Woman’s Guide to … Caring for Aging Parents is scheduled to be featured on the May 28 edition of “Focus on the Family” daily radio broadcast.

Julie was in Focus’ Colorado studios to tape the broadcast back in December. We’re thrilled that it’s going to run on Memorial Weekend.

In Chicagoland, that runs on Friday, May 28 at 11:30 a.m. on WYLL AM 1160.

Check your local listings for times in your area!

Julie’s “Focus on the Family” interview also will be available on the website: http:// listen.family.org/ recentdaily/ as soon as it airs on Friday, May 28. It should remain available to listen online, download or Podcast for about a month.

Cling to This

2010-05-19T08:55:00.000-05:00

Treasured friend,

I have been feeling spiritually wrung out in these days. Chasing to doctor visits. Worried and concerned about many things -- like Martha (Luke 10:41). Missing out on the truly important, I've resisted the opportunity to use these moments of testing in my life to draw closer in my relationship with Christ.

Perhaps you've been through some seasons like this, as well.

As I was praying this morning, confessing that I simply didn't feel like having a quiet time with the Lord, the words of this long-ago memorized passage came to mind -- and in them I found a measure of strength and energy to press on:

Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary. So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith (Galatians 6:9-10; NASB).

It seems the Apostle Paul recognized in the Galatian believers (probably from having experienced the same temptation himself) a fatigue -- a drained-to-the-dregs feeling that had them sure none of the effort they were spending would ultimately prove worthwhile.

His prescription was to press on through -- keep doing good and keep your heart in it. There will be a dividend one day, even if you can't see it right now. Don't be weary. (Sounds a lot like the Master's words in John 14:1, "Don't let your heart be troubled. Trust Me.")

It seems to me the second half of the prescription is to find and seize every opportunity to keep doing good -- to everyone. Does that include the doctor who may not be treating my loved one with the tender care as if he were his own flesh and blood? Does that include the client who is delinquent in paying what is owed? Does that include the driver who cuts me off on the road? Or the customer service agent who seems more interested in venting her own frustration than in helping solve my problem with her company?

I suppose the "everyone" in the passage includes all those individuals -- and so many more. And especially those in the household (whether God's household or our own). Those closest. Those most likely to hear our tirades. Those who need our "doing good" the most.

I'm not quite sure how this works, exactly. Because Paul (and Christ) tell us simply not to let it happen. The weariness. The discouragement. The feeling that none of this battle is worth the effort. They make it sound like a choice -- a change in perspective. And perhaps it is. Looking toward another eventuality -- the one that is in what seems like the far distant future (but could be as close as this very hour). In light of eternity this "momentary light affliction is producing for us an absolutely incomparable eternal weight of glory" (2 Cor 4:17, HCSB).

Fellow weary one, perhaps those words of perspective may be enough to sustain you through this day. I'm clinging to them here ... and pray you will, as well.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Mom, My Best Friend

2010-05-11T22:50:00.005-05:00

Treasured Friend,

One of the most compassionate and selfless scenes that Gospel writers record in the life of Christ occurs in the last moments, as He is gasping for those final breaths. It's a scene I'm thinking about this week, because in our house gift-giving holidays (like birthdays, Mother's and Father's Day, Christmas ...) aren't single days, but whole week celebrations. So, Mother's Day ('er week) is on my mind today, although brunch came and went on Sunday.

Here's how John records the scene I want to draw to your attention today:

But standing by the cross of Jesus were His mother, and His mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus then saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing nearby, He said to His mother, "Woman, behold, your son!" Then He said to the disciple, "Behold, your mother!" From that hour the disciple took her into his own household. (John 19:25-27; NASB)

In honor of my mom, who (along with my dad) is my dearest and most understanding cheerleader, supporter and friend, I have a few observations from the passage that might be both comforting and challenging to those adult children among us who find ourselves cast in the roles of caregiver/advocates for our parents.

The beauty in this scene is three-sided.

But standing by the cross of Jesus is His mother.

The one who didn't always understand Him; didn't always get what He was all about, sometimes even tried to sidetrack Him from the mission His Father sent Him to fulfill--even yet, she stood by Him to the bitter end. The end that pierced her heart, as was prophecied by the sage Simeon on another day in Jerusalem--the day of the infant Christ's dedication at the temple. That's what moms do, at their best (although I grieve over the fact that not all moms achieve this height).

The second side of the scene's poignant beauty is the Son's action in being absolutely certain that He entrusted the mother He loved into the care of His most beloved and trustworthy disciple--John.

Behold your mother.

In those few words, so much more was said: Take care of this one I love as if she were your very own. Be kind to her. Compassionate. Care for her. See that her needs are met. See that she has safety, protection, food, a place to live, a place where she's needed and wanted and loved. Be to her what I would be if I were there--companion, friend, confidante. I trust you to do that for her, as if you were doing it for Me.

Don't you love that scene? Faithful parent. Concerned adult child. Compassionate caregiver. Eyes meeting, through a veil of tears, in a moment of such intensity that the earth would soon shake in agony and the sky would turn to total darkness. These are moments we who are caregivers can feel--because in many ways we've been there ourselves. Commiting our parent into the care of medical teams, other relatives, staffs at rehab facilities or even nursing homes. Oh, how we can relate to the words of the Son of God--instructing His earthly friend on the long-term care of His mother. We too have begged -- Care for my parents as if they were your own.

The final beauty of this scene comes in the simple line,

From that very moment, that disciple took her into his home.

No second-guessing. No waffling about fulfilling the request. No wishy-washy or half-hearted response. An immediate and complete action. Close-up. Affecting John, and Mrs. John, and their entire household. And yet, he did it, out of love for the Master.

On this Mother's week, I'm rededicating myself to doing as John did ... to quickly and open heartedly doing all I can in the care of the loved ones Christ has entrusted to me.

Blessings to you on Mother's week, and all year round!

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

When the Well Is Dry

2010-05-02T21:43:00.001-05:00

Treasured Friend,

Our family would covet your prayers this week. We're struggling with illness and impending surgery. My writing and editing deadlines. And much more.

So, for me, the well seems dry today. That's why I returned this evening to a Scripture my grandfather bequeathed to me in a card shortly before his death. I've found it meaningful as I've read it over and over in the last years. Tonight, I confess, it nearly made me cry -- the good kind of tears.

I pray it will touch your heart in much the same way -- at your point of most humbling need.

Psalms 20:1-7 (NASB)

Prayer for Victory over Enemies

May the LORD answer you in the day of trouble! May the name of the God of Jacob set you securely on high! May He send you help from the sanctuary And support you from Zion! May He remember all your meal offerings And find your burnt offering acceptable! Selah.

May He grant you your heart's desire And fulfill all your counsel!

We will sing for joy over your victory, And in the name of our God we will set up our banners. May the LORD fulfill all your petitions.

Now I know that the LORD saves His anointed; He will answer him from His holy heaven With the saving strength of His right hand.

Some boast in chariots and some in horses, But we will boast in the name of the LORD, our God.

The strength in this passage, for me, is not just the confidence in God's strength, but the fact that a cheerleader out there somewhere is carrying me to the throne of God even this very moment. As we've examined in earlier devotions, there are two Heavenly Prayer Warriors speaking my name (and yours) to the Father -- Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. And, joining Their voices, in this passage, are godly friends -- all pulling in the same direction, asking God to strengthen us and to prove Himself faithful to us.

Let's make a covenant ... you and I ... I'm praying this passage for you as I write tonight -- and please pray it for me whenever you read it. I'm quite sure I'll need it! As will you.

Many blessings and prayers that the Lord will answer you in your distress even if it's ongoing in this day and this hour.

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Here We Go Again!

2010-04-26T09:49:00.001-05:00

Treasured friend,

It’s been a rough week here in our household. We’ve spent more time than we’d hoped in pungent hospital waiting rooms (you’d recognize the smell anywhere: a mingling of antiseptic, burnt coffee, and crumbling paint) and on the cold plastic chairs of specialists’ exam rooms. And it’s not going to get easier any time soon.

You know how that goes – because you’ve been there (or perhaps are there), too.

That’s why this Scripture promise from the mouth of God has been extra meaningful to me this week:

But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you, I give men in return for you, peoples in exchange for your life” (Isaiah 43:1-4; ESV).

I really don’t like that one word that keeps cropping up in the passage: when. God doesn’t say, if the waters threaten to flood you out; if you find yourself walking through fire or if flames come close to you. It’s that pesky when. These things do come close to us—they do touch our households, our loved ones, our own bodies. It’s a reality and a certainty—it’s going to happen. The question is how we’re going to make it through.

For followers of Christ, the comfort is in the companionship. It is in Who has called us by name, Who wades into the waters and Who walks alongside us to keep our feet from sliding on mossy rocks, Who knows where the invisible sand pits cut into the slimy river bed, and Who pledges to keep us from falling into them.

Like He did for the three Hebrew youths in the king’s triple-hot furnace, Christ Himself will be for us the fourth man right in there with us keeping the fire’s flames from kindling on us. I love that scene, told in Daniel 3. Because, although God allowed the fires near His faithful followers, when (I like this use of when much better!) He brought them out of the furnace, their clothes weren’t even singed—they didn’t even have the smell of smoke lingering in their hair. Their faith rings in my ears:

“Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire; and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Daniel 3:17-18; NASB).

The similarity between Daniel 3’s action and Isaiah 43’s promise brings me comfort in the assurance that God will again be true to His Word—Fear not! … I will be with you. He has the means to follow through on His promise, and the inclination (because He loves us and because He formed us and called us His own) to do so. What He says, He will do.

It’s something to cling to when the flood of waiting and fires of uncertainty threaten to overwhelm us.

I’m holding onto that hope today; and I pray you are, as well.

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Precious, Short-lived Solitude

2010-04-18T17:35:00.003-05:00

Treasured friend,

I had a single moment of solitude on Saturday evening, although for a moment it didn’t look like it would come to be. The place of solitude: a commuter jet en route to Ohare airport. It was just a quick breather, mid-weekend. I’d kissed my folks goodbye only hours before—and now I was returning home. It had been an intense 36-hour whirlwind trip, where I’d written a chapter of my new Bible study book (I promise I’ll tell you more about it in another post!) while sitting in a noisy gate area, attended a curriculum planning meeting in Colorado Springs, and was now returning home to teach our Adult Bible Fellowship and play violin in the church orchestra on Sunday morning.

It was the last flight of the evening, so I expected it to be rather empty; judging from the gate area, I was right. So, I boarded early (I’d paid for the privilege) and nestled into seat 4a, folded my arms and began to doze. Suddenly my row (the three remaining seats of it) was accosted with a family of four—yes, four in three seats—little girl, dad, mom and toddler (with dirty diaper). I probably don’t have to describe what was going through my mind. I fumed silently for the duration of the boarding process.

But then, bless her, the flight attendant who was about to close the aircraft door made this announcement: “Anyone who wishes may move back in the plane, where there are empty seats.”

Up in a flash, I found myself the empty row 7 and sprawled across it.

Whoa! A blessing for which I was desperate. Restful moments spent with my head in my hands, praying for strength and wisdom and energy and courage and safety (for myself and for my aging parents while I was away).

I find myself in moments of solitude, rare as they are, seeking the company of my Savior. It is in His company that I, no matter how overwhelmed and exhausted, can breathe in enough heavenly oxygen to continue my heavy-laden schedule.

I was comforted in those moments by two statements from the Word that were close in my memory—comforted because they show me a reminder I absolutely need right away.

The first is in Mark 6:

The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to Him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a remote place and rest a while.” For many people were coming and going, and they did not even have time to eat. So they went away in the boat by themselves to a remote place, but many saw them leaving and recognized them. People ran there by land from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. Mark 6:30-33 (HCSB)

The second is in Deuteronomy 31:

The LORD is the One who will go before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8 (HCSB)

Why do I find comfort here—and why do I believe that perhaps you’ll find comfort here, as well?

First, we desperately need to tell Jesus all about what’s been going on in our lives. We need to lay out before Him the things that have wrung us out like the soggy sponge I left crunched up on my kitchen counter—next to the dirty dishes. They may be good things, like those the disciples reported: I’ve been about your ministry, Lord, and I’ve seen Your hand accomplish many things! Or they may be menial or frightening or tedious things. God, I can’t take another moment of watching my loved one fade away, his mind captive to dementia, her body ravaged by disease.

In those moments, we can be heartened by Jesus’ response to the disciples—because I believe He is responding to our reports similarly today.

First, note that He didn’t say Great job. I’m impressed with all you did for Me.

Instead, here’s my paraphrase of how He did respond: You don’t even have time to eat. Let me help you take care and refresh yourself. You can’t do ministry and you won’t find strength for the day by heaping exhaustion upon exhaustion.

True, the disciples’ work was waiting (perhaps even multiplied) on the other side of that lake, but for a brief moment, Jesus’ prescription for them was respite. I’m glad Mark doesn’t give us a report about some heavy teaching Jesus gave during the trip. I suspect, if I were to imagine the scene, each disciple curled up, nibbled on his packed lunch, then cradled his neck in his pack and napped.

Like the disciples, after the food and the nap, the comfort we’ll find in the Deuteronomy passage is the one that prepares us to return to the work at hand: God hasn’t forsaken us or left us—and He never will. This work to which He’s called me, challenging and difficult though it may be, is possible for that very reason. He calls. He’s faithful. He’s here with me right now. And, my treasured friend, He’s right there with you, as well.

May you find a moment of refreshment today (even in the oddest place), drinking in Christ’s instruction and His Father’s timeless promise.

Blessings and prayers for you, my friend,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Our Only Source of Strength

2010-04-11T14:19:00.004-05:00

Treasured friend,

I spent this morning teaching an adult Bible fellowship group at our church. My topic was John 15:1-10. What a beautiful and jam-packed passage that is. Our Lord, just before going to Gethsemane and then to the cross, so lovingly and intensely addressed His followers. He challenged them. He comforted them. He reminded them of all He'd been modeling before them throughout His years of ministry.

And, most relevantly for us as caregivers, He had a dire yet hope-filled diagnosis for how our lives will be measured, from His vantage point:

"Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:4-5; NIV).

Faithful caregiver, in the drudgery and life-sapping tasks, you probably have no problem with the concept that your strength isn't sufficient for the day. I know there have been many days, humanly speaking, when the demands on me have far surpassed my energy stores. You may be living one of those today.

But Jesus didn't tell us that we couldn't do much apart from being connected to Him. He didn't say, there are some things that you'll need a little help doing. He didn't say, sometimes you'll want to plug into me for a little extra something. No! He said, "Without me, your best efforts will amount to nothing."

Nothing? Really, Jesus? I'm doing so many things because it's right for me to do them. Okay, so sometimes, I forget to get recharged or to ask for Your direction. But it all counts for nothing? That's a drastic diagnosis to give me when I'm trying so hard!

Pretty discouraging stuff, if He'd left it there. But the good news is that there's more to the story—in fact, He gave us the good news ahead of the bad news. Let's look again at verse 5, this time from the NLT, because there it really pops:

"Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing."

In Christ, through Christ, and by Christ, our labors will be more productive than we could ever imagine. They will bear "much fruit." Not a little. But a lot of juicy, fruity, nourishing sweetness will come bursting out of our lives. That's what I want to be a part of producing, don't you?

What does this fruit look like in real life? In our prayer time in ABF this morning, we heard about a man who is battling cancer. He's a man of strong faith in Christ. And, as we were going to prayer on his behalf, we heard this report: his wife says her faith has been strengthened as she's watched him and cared for him through the illness that has him in its grasp. This brother in Christ is remaining—he is showing by a life well lived that not through human effort, but through Christ's life shining through his suffering, his branch is bearing fruit for the kingdom of God.

So, the challenge to each of us today is clear. Remain attached to the vine of Christ. It's not an option, not one thing among many to drop down the rungs of our to-do lists until we get more time. It's crucial—it's life-giving—and it makes all the difference in the world.

May we remain attached to Christ today – and in our remaining, may He bear much fruit through our lives as we give ourselves away in care for those we love.

Blessings to you on this Lord's Day afternoon,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

He Is Risen!

2010-04-04T16:58:00.000-05:00

Treasured Friend,

It’s days like today that make me appreciate good friends, stable health, and time together as a family. There were six of us around the Easter supper table this afternoon: my parents and I were joined by our dear friends—two adult daughters and their widowed mom. Despite all of us having endured (even as recently as the last two weeks) various trips to surgeons, doctors, test facilities, pharmacies, emergency rooms, and more, on this day we were all together and for the moment on the better side, health-wise.

I realize for you the day may have been quite different—we around the table have been through our seasons of such intense caregiving that a holiday meal together was unthinkable. That probably made today all that much sweeter for the six of us—reflecting on how God has brought us through stormy seasons, reflecting on our loved ones who are already absent from the body and present with the Lord; reflecting on the hope that keeps us going when the weeks again become Everest-like treks devoid of Sherpa guides.

Today’s shared meal was a reminder for me to keep on encouraging you to be heartened with the knowledge that seasons pass. Your load won’t be unbearable always. The hope of Easter is exactly that. There will be a day when ...

The LORD of hosts will prepare a lavish banquet for all peoples … He will swallow up death for all time, And the Lord GOD will wipe tears away from all faces, And He will remove the reproach of His people from all the earth; For the LORD has spoken. And it will be said in that day, “Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited that He might save us. This is the LORD for whom we have waited; Let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation.” Isaiah 25:6-9 (NASB)

Imagine what that celebration will be like. Heavenly chefs placing before a gathering of saints from all nations and all generations the most lavish and bountiful spread ever tabled. And the Lord of love and grace—the Savior of Resurrection Sunday—presiding at the head as Master of the Household of Faith. Before the meal, He will come to each one and with His own nail-pierced hand brush away all tears, removing, as He does this, the last residue of sorrow and mourning and pain and suffering from our sojourn on fallen earth. With that, the joy of salvation will erupt in a magnitude never before expressed.

Looking toward this day can become our motivator—our hope—our assurance—as the long season of caregiving looms ahead of us. All this is possible, because it is Jesus’ expressed desire: “I want them to be with Me where I am.” On the night before His crucifixion Christ told the Father. “I want them to see My glory, the glory I had before the foundation of the world” (paraphrased from John 17).

That’s why there was a cross for Christ. That’s why there was a crown of thorns twisted into His brow and a spear in His side and a burial shroud draped across His battered earthly shell. That’s why there was a boulder rolled across the entrance of a borrowed tomb by hulking Roman soldiers. That’s why it took two angels in white robes to break the seal and an earthquake to roll away the hunk of solid earth and sit atop it—readying the grand announcement: HE IS NOT HERE. HE IS RISEN, AS HE SAID.

Sure the amazing news of the Resurrection stunned even His inner circle. They’d stood by helplessly—as if in the most horrid nightmare—while their Master was cruelly and brutally massacred by a crowd of easily swayed countrymen and foreigner soldiers. But with Christ’s resurrection in the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 1:4), death would no longer win—it would never be the end for those who believe in Him. The cruelest suffering on earth will pale in that day when it’s wiped away by the loving hand of our Lord. All that will remain will be our knowledge of His faithfulness, His love, His grace, His mercy—and our undying gratitude for it.

Take hope, my friend. No matter what you’re facing today, let the empty tomb be your eternal reminder that Christ didn’t just experience your griefs beside you, didn’t just carry them with you, but He conquered them once for all time for you. The tomb is empty, so your exhaustion and your care-recipient’s suffering—these do not have the last word. He has conquered, and He will one day allow you to see that the spoils of His victory belong to you.

May the truth of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ be your strength today.
Easter blessings from our home to yours!

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Gethsemane Request

2010-03-28T14:10:00.001-05:00

Dearest Treasured One,

In this week when we commemorate Christ’s passion for us, I’m spending some time contemplating and examining Matthew’s eyewitness account of the last hours before Jesus was arrested, tried, convicted, and crucified.

In particular, I’m drawn anew to the moments He spent praying in Gethsemane. Here, in its context, is the line that finds special significance for me this Easter season:

Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to His disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me” (Matthew 26:36-38 NASB).

The grieved and distressed, these I understand. As my pastor pointed out this morning—this grief, this distress that Jesus experienced in that hour and the much greater suffering in the hours that followed—those He experienced on my behalf, and yours. No one on this planet or in all of creation could take His place or do what He was called on to do in that hour. Only He could carry our sins, our grief, our sorrows, our pain. There was no other alternative. If we were to be rescued from the curse of Eden’s sin, only Christ could enter into death itself to buy us back at the cost of His precious lifeblood.

But this simple request of our Master as He faced the hour that would culminate in the reason He entered space and time in human form, is so telling. “I’m in distress, my friends, and I need you to just be here with me in this moment.” There was nothing the disciples could do to lessen Christ’s load. He would never permit it. (Remember the conversation, probably just weeks before, when Peter blurted out the claim that he never would let his Master be put to death? Jesus had a quick and strong rebuke for His friend—“Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but man's” [Matthew 16:23 NASB]).

No, there was no way anyone could lessen the Messiah’s suffering—except simply by being with Him in this hour. Much like Mary who had anointed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume days earlier in Bethany, these three inner-circle friends (Peter included) had the opportunity to sit with Jesus as He poured out His grief and distress to the Father.

If you know the rest of the story, you know the disciples weren’t up to the task, for exhaustion (and perhaps grief) overtook them. But the significance here is that even Christ, in this moment of high drama and overwhelming intensity, called on trusted loved ones to sit beside Him.

Which brings us to the significance of this passage to us as caregivers: The beauty of being members of Christ’s family is that in compassion, camaraderie, and comfort, we can just be with each other in our most challenging and grievous moments. No one can be the daughter to my parents except me. No one can perform your role in your loved one’s life, either. But we can stand together (or sit together) to pour out our hearts and share our stories and remind each other that we’re not alone. We are a family, and when one hurts we all close ranks to offer hearts of compassion and ears to listen and arms to hug and eyes to share tears.

I have the privilege of being part of a prayer team—a team of caregivers across several states—all of whom read The Overwhelmed Woman’s Guide to … Caring for Aging Parents and decided they needed each other’s prayer support as they went about the challenging tasks of honoring their aging parents. When I heard about the group, I asked if I could be a part of it. I can’t tell you what a blessing these women are to me. We have the opportunity, via cyberspace, to just be with each other in these deeply grievous times.

But there is even better news yet … the God/Man Christ experienced in that hour in the Garden of Gethsemane my grief—and yours. He knows how it feels. He knew what it meant to be overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of distress and exhaustion. He experienced it all for us—and He will sit with us in our moments today, if we will but carry them to Him in prayer and heartfelt pleas. We don’t even need Internet access to get to Him—and He won’t ever fall asleep as He watches and prays with us.

A blessed Palm Sunday and Holy Week to you, my friend!

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Christ's Passion for Our Griefs

2010-03-20T11:17:00.000-05:00

Treasured friends,

With Good Friday (and then Easter) soon approaching, I've been turning my attention to the way God revealed Christ's passion to the prophet Isaiah hundreds of years before Jesus' birth. It's a familiar passage in Isaiah 53, but one I believe has special devotional relevance to us as caregivers -- who daily work to assuage another's pains, all the while battling our own griefs, sorrows, disappointments, agonies, and illnesses.

Listen, weary caregiver, to how closely Jesus identified with your circumstances while His body was being torn to shreads by the stripes, while His life-blood was spattering down, while He gasped for each fleeting breath. I'll use the HCSB translation, which may sound a little different from the one you've heard or read for years. (I do this intentionally, because sometimes reading the same truth with a different cadence arrests our attention and envelopes us in old truth from a new perspective.)

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of suffering who knew what sickness was. He was like someone people turned away from; He was despised, and we didn’t value Him.

Yet He Himself bore our sicknesses, and He carried our pains; but we in turn regarded Him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted.

But He was pierced because of our transgressions, crushed because of our iniquities; punishment for our peace was on Him, and we are healed by His wounds.

We all went astray like sheep; we all have turned to our own way; and the LORD has punished Him for the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:3-6, HCSB)

When my pastor preached on this passage recently, he keyed in on the fact that as Isaiah prophecied this event, he mentioned our sicknesses and pains early on. This is significant, he said, letting us see how closely Jesus identified with us at our weakest points of human suffering. He knew what sickness was!

As He took the stripes and felt the nails tear into His flesh, Jesus felt the exhaustion of every home-tied caregiver whose back aches from lifting her parent from bed to wheelchair. He felt the shreading sorrow of the long goodbye dementia patients and their loved ones endure. He felt the grief of death's separation. He felt the uncertainty you're experiencing as you're doing your best for your parent but you fear your best may not be nearly enough.

He felt it, He bore it for us, and He offers hope through His resurrection that in His bearing these griefs and sorrows, there will be a day when we will know what is already known in the realms of Eternity ... sorrow, sighing, tears, and pain have all been swept away by the flow of His precious blood down that awful cross and into the desert sands outside Jerusalem that day.

Yes, have all been swept away. What we're experiencing here, though it feels so permanent, so real, so absolutely endless, is more like an evaporating vapor than a concrete reality, at least from Heaven's perspective. Through the prophet God speaks what will be as if it already had been--by His stripes, we are healed.

So, as we go about our caregiving this day, my prayer is that each of us will try on this Heavenly reality for size--not only is Christ side-by-side with us in our most grievous tasks, but He has already conquered them for every believer who trusts in Him for ultimate and complete salvation.

May these truths comfort and strengthen you for the day's tasks.

Easter Blessings,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Overwhelmed!

2010-03-13T09:51:00.002-06:00

Dear, treasured friend,

This week I've been in special prayer for two dear fellow-caregivers who are making the agonizing decisions about the best facilities where their ailing parents will get the care they desperately need. To make these choices in their parents' best interests, these loving caregivers need more wisdom, insight, calm, compassion, strength, tenacity, and assistance than they can get in human terms. But, as both are also long-time followers of Christ, they have the assurance that they are not alone, that through prayer and listening for God's direction they will find the resources they need so desperately.

The best news is that you, too, can have that same assurance.

(If you'd like more information about becoming a Christ-follower, click on this link http://joymediaservices.com/694/index.html that will take you to an article I wrote that explains how and why this can be the greatest decision of your life.)

Listen to the words Paul penned to bolster fellow sufferers in their times of most stringent battle:

Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: Because of You we are being put to death all day long; we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered.

No, in all these things we are more than victorious through Him who loved us.

For I am persuaded that not even death or life, angels or rulers, things present or things to come, ⌊hostile⌋ powers, height or depth, or any other created thing will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord! Romans 8:35-39 (HCSB)

Not even death--not even people or circumstances--not even illness or pain or grief--none of these things and nothing anywhere can separate us from the love of God. Drink in that awesome truth.

I've often wondered why Paul keyed in on the love attribute of God here. Why not, nothing can separate us from the power of God? or the wisdom of God? or the deliverance of God? While those are all true, there is something special about the agape love of God -- the love that gives itself away for the betterment of the beloved. The love that puts the needs of another ahead of its own comfort. That's the perfect and complete love from which nothing--not even the darkest day of caregiving--can ever separate us.

God the victor. God the destroyer of death, hell, and the grave. God the wise. God the all-powerful. Not only does He hold all these titles. But He holds them for our lives--all wrapped up in the package of His love. How much more comforting is it that the One Who is so mighty chooses to use that might on our behalf, in love, with our best interests (and those of our honored parents) in His heart of hearts?

So, fatigued and overwhelmed friend, draw courage and strength from the amazing love of God for you.

Yes, life is tragically difficult. But the One Who loves you perfectly is connected to you, next to you, yoked to you inseparably. He is pulling with you, and no one can change that.

Maybe your definition of "victorious through Him who loves you" doesn't look exactly like you thought it would today. But you can come through stronger and closer to Him and more convinced of His love for you today than you were yesterday.

Bask in the glory of this promise ...

With my love and prayers for you today,
Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Praying Like Jesus

2010-03-04T13:29:00.004-06:00

Dear and treasured friend,

This week, I am writing a study guide to go along with my book, Praying Like Jesus. My mind and my heart are immersed in the beauty of the Scripture in John 17, where Jesus lets us overhear His prayers on our behalf. For caregivers, in particular, knowing that the very Son of God and Holy Spirit of God are standing with us in prayer can be a source of immeasurable strength.

There is much here in this passage that is consistent with the Romans 8 passage we've been considering in this blog over the last several weeks. So, as this week's devotional thought, I hope you'll indulge me ... rather than write something brand new, I'm going to excerpt a portion of chapter 51 (the second to the last) from Praying Like Jesus. I do this in hopes that it will encourage your heart to catch this glimpse of how very much the Son of God, along with the Father and the Holy Spirit truly love you.

Oh, and if you love what you read and are interested in the rest of the story (the whole book, currently available in print; soon to be available with study guide in electronic and audio MP3 formats), zap me an email and my office will let you know how to order your own copy in your preferred format.

So, here 'tis:

When Jesus took on human form, He limited Himself to time and space. He could appear in only one place at a time. He could only be with one group of followers at a time. But once He ascended to the Father and His glory was reinstated, He again assumed the characteristics of the Godhead, which include omniscience (all knowledge), omnipotence (all power), and omnipresence (presence in all places). So Jesus can be in me, here in suburban Chicagoland, at the same time that He is in you, no matter where in this universe you are. The Holy Spirit, too, has this inherent ability. Without omniscience and omnipresence Their continuous intercession for every believer could not take place.

Let’s look at two passages in Romans 8 that enlighten us to this promise. First, we encounter the fact that the Holy Spirit gains God’s ear on our behalf and mediates for us in words superior to ours, making requests that are more suited for us than anything we could ask for ourselves. “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will” (26–27). Marvin Vincent, in his study of words in the Epistles, writes that the Spirit “throws Himself into our case; takes part in it.”1 If we want to pray in God’s will, we can trust God’s Spirit to do that for us—as He groans with us, as He grieves for our trials, as He shares our pains, as He exposes our sins. I can’t imagine a more loving picture than that of a God who searches our hearts—an intimate knowledge no human could share—then speaks on our behalf in emotive heavenly sounds that are superior to human language.

A few verses later, Paul says Jesus, too, intercedes for believers. “Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us” (Romans 8:34). The context adds a rich layer to the intercession. Because Jesus is strategically placed at God’s right hand interceding for us, no one can charge us falsely before God, no one can place a wedge of separation between God and us. Jesus sees to that. When the accuser (Satan) wags his finger at me before God, Jesus tells the Father, “This one is covered by My blood. No one can condemn her; she belongs to Me.” That’s a fact even the accuser can’t rebut.

In Hebrews, the writer pictures Jesus as the new and eternal High Priest who comes before God the Father to present petitions for His people. I love the phrase in Hebrews 7:25: “He always lives to intercede for them.” Jesus lives to intercede for you and me. This is what He always does. Every moment He approaches the Father on our behalf. Marvin Vincent elaborates that Jesus “is eternally meeting us at every point and intervening in all our affairs for our benefit.”2

Being a curious sort, I’ve wondered what the Spirit and Jesus say to the Father about me. The answer to that question is what this study has sought to uncover. What does God say to God; or, to put it another way, what do members of the Trinity say to each other? We have listened in on the communication between the Son and the Father as we have studied John 17. Another part of the answer can be found in something Jesus said to Peter on the night of the high priestly prayer. The disciples were in the Upper Room where they had shared the Passover meal. The eleven faithful men had pledged their allegiance to the Master. Then Christ said to Simon Peter, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” (Luke 22:31–32a). I tend to believe that Jesus continues to pray for us that despite all worldly temptations our faith may not fail.

For our own prayers, the end result of the fact of our two highly placed heavenly Intercessors is stated in Hebrews 4:16: “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

1. Marvin R. Vincent, Vincent’s Word Studies Vol. 4: Epistles, electronic ed. (Hiawatha, Ia.: Parsons Technology, Inc.), s.v. “Intercessions.”

2. Ibid.

Excerpted by permission from Praying Like Jesus, (c) 2001, 2010 Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint information, write to Joy at orders@joymediaservices.com

Blessings to you today, my friends,

Julie

To Julie's website for resource list

So Very Close

2010-02-24T06:17:00.001-06:00

Hello, treasured friends,

One of the easiest elements of caregiving to let slide amid flurries of medical diagnoses, financial concerns, legal issues—is the element of spending love-filled quality time with our aging relatives. As our memories will attest, our parents—though aging—are more than care recipients, they are those with whom we’ve built relationships over the course of lifetimes.

So, as I spend some quality time with my mom today, I challenge you to just sit with your loved one, listen to her, talk about something other than age or disabilities. Just be together.

This is a concept that I believe translates well into our relationship with God and our dependence on His Spirit as we go about our caregiving lives. Listen to the closeness of relationship Paul describes regarding the believer and the Spirit of God Who lives within us:

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will (Romans 8:26-27, NIV).

He’s so close that He searches our hearts. We don’t even need to form words to let Him know our needs, our exhaustion, our desperation, our utter dependence. He searches our hearts and recognizes our needs at the deepest levels. And He is the same one Who knows the heart of our loving Father toward us. So, He asks the Father for what we need most—and He does this in line with what He already knows to be the Father’s perfect will for us. And don’t think for a moment that our Father in Heaven won’t answer His own Spirit’s intercessory requests on our behalf with a resounding “Yes! Amen! Let it be done!”

This is quality relationship at its most amazing. The Triune God knows us. He is in us and with us and works through us. And, as we’ll discover soon (in Rom. 8:38-39) His love for us is beyond deterioration, division, or distraction. Nothing—not even the most grievous parts of caregiving—can separate us from His love, demonstrated most clearly in the gift of Christ Jesus our Lord.

Perhaps the lesson here, then, is not only to be careful to spend quality time with our aging loved ones at regular, planned intervals; but more importantly to plan quality time getting to know the One Who knows us so intimately.

May these thoughts be a blessing and a challenge to you today!

Love,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

No Better Helper!

2010-02-16T12:04:00.004-06:00

Hello, dear friend,

One of the places in the Word where I go for comfort early and often is Romans 8. This whole chapter overflows with such beauty—such assurance. In its truths I've found resources I never knew I could tap.

For example, verse 21 assures us that we, along with all creation—and especially our ailing loved ones—will be liberated one day soon from bondage to decay. The aging process will one day be conquered by perfect health. Death will be overcome by life, rather than the other way around.

As we watch decay take the upper hand with our aging parents, what a comfort to have the absolute assurance that what we see isn’t the last word—Someone else has the last word, the Someone whose Father didn’t allow His body to decay in the grave, the Someone who rose and conquered death itself, the Someone Who now holds in His nail-scarred hands the keys of death, hell and the grave.

This is such a rich passage for caregivers, that I’d like us to focus on a couple more truths from its verses in the next few weeks.

Today, let’s look at our source of strength and comfort as we give ourselves away in caring for our aging loved ones.

But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. Romans 8:25-27 (NIV)

Did you catch the phrase, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness”? The Spirit of God, Third Person of the Trinity, that Spirit—Comforter, Counselor, Friend—He recognizes our weakness, our exhaustion, our pain, our discouragement. And not only that, He comes in, rolls up His sleeves (as it were), gets into the middle of our struggles, and helps us. The HCSB translation puts it this way: “the Spirit also joins to help in our weakness.” NASB Greek Dictionary clarifies the long, compound Greek word Paul used when he wrote this. “To take hold with at the side, hence to take a share in, generally to help.”

So, treasured caregiver, today you need not feel alone. If there were only One Who could ever be on your side, at your side, shouldering the weight of the load along with you—you would want it to be this One—the Spirit of the Living God. Who better to search our hearts and help us in our most trying moments?

Next time we'll focus on His prayers for us. But for today, let's bask in the knowledge that His place is right where we are--right in the middle of it all--and He's lending His aid on our behalf. Draw strength right in this moment from the promise that the Spirit is helping you in your weakest hours. This is our hope—founded on solid ground. Take comfort from it.

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Treasured by God

2010-02-11T16:05:00.001-06:00

Hello Friends,

Within the last 24 hours, I had a phone call from a friend whose father was being rushed to the emergency room (she called as she was en route to the hospital) and an email from another whose mother was being resettled into a nursing facility after a fall. I attended the memorial for one of my mother’s contemporaries whose children watched her die in a long battle with cancer. While socializing there, I cried with an acquaintance whose mother (living thousands of miles away) is tottering between life and death after having a stroke, and stood with another whose sister-in-law is in a rehab hospital. (To make matters worse, the patient’s husband is in the grips of advanced dementia.)

I assured all of them that I would carry them to the Father in prayer. And I will continue to do so. But, in one sense, that seems so little for me to do.

As you each will attest, these crises are all too common as we watch our loved ones age. And they take a toll on us as we stand by helplessly, entrusting our precious loved ones into the care of medical teams made up, by and large, of strangers. But do our prayers really do anything for our fellow caregivers or care receivers in crisis?

Truly the caregiver’s life is filled with trauma, emergency, upheaval, guilt, and distress. Perhaps that’s why the Scripture I want to share with you today jumps off the page for me.

The setting is when the Prophet Daniel received a terribly unsettling revelation from the Lord. It troubled him so that he could do absolutely nothing but pour his heart out to God. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t tend to personal hygiene. (Does that sound at all like the life of a caregiver in crisis?) For 21 days this went on. (Seeming interminable, just like our heavy-duty caring times.) And then, in a moment, a messenger from heaven showed up.

Did that messenger berate Daniel for his tears? Did he tell the prophet to buck up? Did he bull right in with the discouraging diagnosis? Did he tell Daniel to stop praying and do something more productive? None of the above. Here’s the way Daniel recorded what happened:

“No strength was left in me; my face grew deathly pale, and I was powerless. … Suddenly, a hand touched me and raised me to my hands and knees. He said to me, ‘Daniel, you are a man treasured ⌊by God⌋. Understand the words that I’m saying to you. Stand on your feet, for I have now been sent to you.’ After he said this to me, I stood trembling. ‘Don’t be afraid, Daniel,’ he said to me, ‘for from the first day that you purposed to understand and to humble yourself before your God, your prayers were heard. I have come because of your prayers’” (Daniel 10:8-12, HCSB).

Three phrases jump out at me, as if they were ablaze in neon lights:

--“you are … treasured by God”

--“don’t be afraid”

--“your prayers were heard”

My friends whose parents are in crisis this day (and those of us who are in breather moments between crises), take heart. Not only does God see your exhaustion—feel your lack of strength and your powerlessness in the face of crisis, but He sends an answer—a response to your prayers.

Whatever you’re facing today, know this for a fact:

--You are treasured by God.

--You don’t need to remain afraid. (Think of the words of David, in Psalm 23: “I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”)

--And, most of all, God hears and is even now acting on your behalf.

Treasured one, be strong and stand on your feet, for the Lord who loves you is beside you today. He was there with His servants in days past, He is with each of us today, and He will be always and forever with us.

I pray that these truths from the Word will hearten and strengthen you for today’s task.

Blessings,

Julie

© 2010, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Welcome Friends and Fellow Caregivers

2010-02-09T17:45:00.000-06:00

Truly the job of caring for our parents as they walk the aging journey can be exhausting. So that's where this blog will come in. As a sometimes-caregiver myself, I turn early and often to God's Word for encouragement and strength to face each situation and each day.

I'll post to this blog about once a week -- and will include a devotional thought and a Scripture that's been my lifeline in crisis -- and just may become a source of encouragement to your heart.

So, here's the first Scripture ... it's one I use whenever I autograph books for readers:

"Dear friend I pray that you may prosper in every way and be in good health physically just as you are spiritually" 3 John 2 (HCSB).

Blessings to you,

Julie