STEP INTO A STRANGER'S SANDALS

The other day, Faith asked if I might do a quick proof read on something she had written.  It was unlike her other papers which are usually in MLA or APA format, so tidy and professional.  I read it through more than once and my response was, "I have no corrections, Faithie.  Only tears."  

I had to share it with you. 

Love, 

 







By FAITH JONES

 

 

 

 

I see only horror.  The feeling of black night envelops me.  Every image I see and voice I hear all carries a threat.  I cannot control myself.  I cannot do anything to stop the destruction that follows in my wake.  All day and night without rest I shout hoarsely, staggering blindly through the slums of Jerusalem.  I’m not from here; I’m from Magdala.  I wish I was back there now.  Here everyone stares at me distastefully, as if I am the devil himself.  I feel as though I will be ripped apart from the inside.  The writhing in my soul is too great for me to bear.  I scream loudly and shrilly, hoping to ease the agonizing reality I find myself in, but nothing changes.  I cannot remember anything different.  Has it always been this way?  Will it always be this way?  Hope is a foreign concept; I know nothing of it.  I collapse to the ground, head reeling and body shaking.  Through the fog in my mind, I see Him.  He is looking at me.  My face must have contorted into something horrific as I cursed, spitting in His direction.  He does not scurry away, as many do.  He does not curse back, like some do.  He does not even frown at me, making me feel like the scum I am.  He smiles.  A smile?  I had almost forgotten what that was.  I begin to tremble and sweat streams down my face.  My breathing becomes hard and I try to stand up, but to no avail.  Instead, the demons throw me down into the mud on the street.  I convulse wildly, crying out with voices that are not my own.  The Man rushes over to me.  His shadow falls across me in the fading light, and sitting up, I strike out at His feet.  He is not intimidated, nor is He disgusted.  His presence overwhelms me, and I suddenly feel calm.  It is an unfamiliar emotion.  Peace.  What is it?  Fear of this Stranger and His power over my demons begins to grip me.  Who is He, that He can still them?  No witch nor authority has ever been able to do that.  I whimper, covering my face in my hands.  Dirty hands.  Hands broken and bleeding from the years of hardship.  Years of pain.  Years of hopelessness.  I feel His warm hands envelop mine, and His kind voice reaches into my darkness.  He says a command, but it’s not directed at me.  Suddenly, with a loud cry and one last convulsion, I collapse in utter exhaustion.  His strong arm catches me before I hit the ground, and I gaze into His loving eyes in wonder.  My demons are gone!  I feel almost human again.  I inhale shakingly, then melt into tears while He hugs me close.  The struggle, the pain, the alienation from my fellow man: gone.  My muddled thoughts clear, and my everlasting headache recedes.  I look up at Him again, amazed at the kind of love that it took to reach out to such a repulsive person as I am.  Why did He even bother?  Who am I that He cares?  Who is He, that He would be willing to reach down into the sin and grime of my life to rescue me?  Whoever He is, I don’t think He’s human.  No human has that kind of amazing love.  No one can love me.  Except Him.

I am not the same woman as I used to be.  My demons have been cast out.  I am clothed.  I am loved.  I am a follower of Jesus.  He was the One that healed me that day, and I have been His disciple ever since.  I can’t help it; I am possessed by a different Spirit now.  I hope Jesus knew what He was getting into that day, because I’m never letting Him go.  I have tried to express my gratitude many times, but all my feeble efforts fall tremendously short.  I simply cannot repay Him.  He rescued me from a life that was hell on earth, and I will live with Him in His kingdom for all eternity.  He will never let me go.  Salvation is truly an amazing thing.  God doesn’t care for riches, or comfort, or popularity.  He cares for me, and others like me.  Sinners in pain.  I have seen Him heal many other demon possessed people.  I don’t think most of them had as many as I did, but when I looked at them, I felt their despair; despair that I remember quite vividly.  Then, as He healed them, I see the same inexpressibly joy that overwhelmed me.  His compassion is unsurpassed.  I can only thank Him, and all I have to give Him is my meager life.  He has it.  I am His forever.

Tonight is very cold.  I am fighting hopelessness once again.  This time, though, it’s not demons.  It’s the religious leaders.  I thought they were supposed to be the righteous ones; the teachers, people who are our example.  Now they have arrested the Son of God, and are illegally trying Him for blasphemy.  I think it’s blasphemy to drag God down to their petty level, to bind Him and make Him play their stupid game.  I wish I could do something, but I have absolutely no influence with the Pharisees.  They still look down their lofty noses when I pass them in the street.  They think they are so holy, but in reality, they are prideful and graceless.  They make up impossible rules and judge us all for breaking them.  They call Jesus a criminal.  Jesus!  He was incredible enough to put aside His heavenly throne to come and save us from the consequences of our sin.  Yet they tied Him up, hauled Him to a courtroom, and delight in scorning Him.  He is patient.  All night long He is taken from one courtroom to another.  They are trying to find some fault in God.  Good luck, Pharisees!  God doesn’t make mistakes.  The sun is finally rising, but the chill hasn’t left my heart.  I pray desperately, hoping that God the Father will think of the best course of action.  There’s a crowd now, running and yelling down the street.  I join them, trying to find out what is happening.  Then I see Him.  He is beaten to a pulp, a twisted crown of thorns pressed into His scalp, and He is carrying a monstrous wooden cross.  A cry of anguish leaves my lips as I fall to my knees.  I call His name, tears streaming down my face.  I don’t know how He possibly could have heard me, but somehow He did.  His bloody face turns in my direction, and He smiles at me.  How can He smile?  I watch helplessly as He is forced up the street towards the hill.  Golgotha, the place where the condemned are crucified and left to die.  The horror of the moment fills my soul.  I can do nothing.  Nothing but follow.  I have followed Him ever since that day He healed me.  I will follow Him now.  My body shakes as I try to suppress my grief.  At the top of the hill, nails are driven into His hands and feet.  Every cry of pain that leaves His lips becomes my own.  I turn away as the cross is hoisted high, displaying the King of the universe stripped and dying.  I lose all track of time as I stare numbly at the scene before me.  His breathing is becoming shallow now.  I inhale painfully, wishing I could take His place.  I wish I could heal Him the way He healed me so long ago.  I wish He wasn’t on that cross.  I jerk in surprise when He cries out.  Then His head drops and I know He is dead.  I bite my lip as a soldier pierces His side with a spear.  The mixture of blood and water that pours from His lung is proof of my suspicion.  The sky is suddenly black, and lightening flashes.  I turn and run, not knowing where I am going.  I don’t care.  My Savior is gone.

 

The spices sting my swollen nostrils as I mix them together.  I have no more tears, only a dry grief that eats up my soul with each passing moment.  I am going to anoint Him.  It’s the least I can do for the One who rescued me.  I pick up the box of ointment and walk out of the house.  The early sun hurts my red, puffy eyes.  I forgot my cloak, but I don’t even think about the chilly morning.  I haven’t considered how I will roll the stone from the tomb when I get there.  My feet trudge slowly towards the tomb, mindlessly stepping over the guards’ bodies.  I suddenly look up in surprise; the stone is moved away!  I turn and stare at the guards, passed out before the open grave.  I peek into the dark cave, then drop my spices in amazement.  Turning, I flee down the hill, not stopping until I reach Jesus’ disciples.  I gasp out that He is gone; the grave is empty!  John and Peter immediately begin running back towards the tomb, and I pursue them.  I finally reach them when they are emerging from the tomb, eyes sad.  Peter is shaking his head in despair, but John looks ecstatic.  John keeps going on and on to Peter about how Jesus promised He would raise from the dead, but Peter wordlessly shuffles down the hill.  I watch them go, and grief overcomes me.  Someone must have stolen His body!  But who?  And where would they have taken it?  The grief in my heart flows down my cheeks.  I look into the grave again, but this time it’s not dark.  I gasp as two angels, clothed in white, ask me why I am weeping.  I turn around and see a Man standing behind me.  He also asks me why I am crying.  I figure He was the gardener, so I ask Him where He took Jesus’ body.  The Man says my name, and the life leaves my legs.  I cry out as I recognize my Savior.  He is alive!

  

 

 
_______________

ALLOWING OUR KITES TO FLY {teens and releasing the string}

 

 

 

 

 

 

Older sisters taking Sarah out for her first 14 year old fancy coffee and a play performance on her birthday!

 

 

“Kids are much like kites- struggling to become airborne, yet needing the stability of the string...

God designed your role as a parent to prepare 'your kite' for flight...

Keep running with your child, releasing more and more string into the Lord's sovereign hands."

-June Hunt, speaking about teens at Hope for the Heart Ministries  

 

  

That running with and releasing the string can be easier said than done.  Just ask any parent with teenagers! 

After becoming used to guarding and protecting our kites and working so hard to tie on that tail that will balance them later (the Word), it can be tough to even consider bringing these kites outside.  This may be especially true with girls.   

They have become beautiful under our care.  Wouldn't it be better to hang them our wall to admire or tuck them away in a drawer for safe keeping rather than risk the diving and dipping that is sure to come as they begin to catch flight?   

But kites were made to fly. 
 

 

We gave this book to Faith when she was little, but the Ps. 139 message is still true.  We will not always be with her, but God will.

THE HURDLES AND HELPS


When I posted recently about parenting teens, I said that I would share a little about our thought process in sending Faith to college.  Honestly, it was not an easy decision for our family.  Really.     

Because Faith was always academic, we decided long ago that we would simply do our best not to close any doors along the way, in case the Lord might have plans we did not know about yet.  We always figured that God can steer a moving ship, so we went ahead and had her take the PSAT and later the SAT, but all the while we were still not convinced that the Lord wanted her to go to college.   

While in secular circles a girl going to college raises no eyebrows, we have been exposed to a different way of thinking. 

First of all, as homeschoolers we are the types to usually buck the system.  Pretty much any system.  If the world approves it, it must be evil- or at least unhealthy.  We're pretty leery about whatever is being peddled our way and we are willing to do our research.  But in doing our research in this area, we had to admit that some institutions for higher education not only made sense, they were being redeemed for God's glory. 

Secondly, over the last few years every bit of information related to college we had heard was fear based.  Kids who go to college- even Christian college- will fall away from the faith.  Or get raped.  Or both.  There were statistics and examples shared with us at every turn, so why in the world would we even consider it?  But we remembered that God has not given us a spirit of fear.  He knows our days before there is even one of them.  Yes, we must navigate wisely, but not based on fear of man. 

As we prayed, God led us to reexamine the history of Daniel.  We were reminded that all the best kids, from good Israelite families, were taken into captivity with Daniel.  So why was it that only Daniel and his friends were committed to following what they knew pleased the Lord during this period of training (which was roughly around the same length of time as the college experience)? 

There were only four out of all the best of captured from all of the tribes of Israel who resolved to obey God.  They refrained from eating what was unlawful for them.  Later it was Daniel who was unwilling to stop his prayers to the Lord and his friends who would not bow down to an idol.  

Only four. 

We had to admit that sounded worse than today's statistics.  Maybe this was really a heart issue and not a college issue.

Thirdly, we knew our goal for Faith would be to prepare her to be a godly helpmeet someday.  We had to consider, would a higher education improve her abilities to be a helpmeet or prohibit them?  Personally, every skill I learned in college (except Trigonometry- yuck!) has been a service to me and to our household.  It has never deterred me from my Titus 2 objectives, but it has helped me in numerous ways.  

Once we tackled those hurdles in our thinking, it was time to identify our actual goals for our daughter over the next few years.  They included:

 

• That she would continue to grow socially, intellectually and spiritually
• That she would be fashioned into a woman who would be an excellent helpmeet if and when God blessed that opportunity
• That she would be equipped as best as we were able to equip her for an unknown future 
• That she would continue to contribute in a meaningful way in her sister's lives and in our home 

The entire time we processed these thoughts, we never believed that Christian college would be the only avenue to achieve these goals for our daughter or that college was the right choice for every child.  But we acknowledged that if God is creative enough to make each snowflake and fingerprint uniquely, He is able to have a different plan for different families and different children.  We were convinced that we must seek Him and not parent based on peer pressure.    

This was our thought process.  It is NOT a model to follow, but a peek into our hearts and minds on this issue.  We had to lay it all before the Lord and process through point by point, always trusting the Lord to bring a Scripture to our minds at the appropriate time.  Which He did.

Whatever is ahead for you in the teen years, He will lead you if you ask Him.  You do not need to fear.  He will direct you to a safe place in which you can release some string.  Not every place will be safe.  Not every season in your child's life will be a safe time.  It may take adjustments. 

For us, the Christian college (while Faith remains living at home) has been a safe place to release some string. 

And she is soaring. 

Homemade banner by the talented Michaela.

 



CUT 'EM A BREAK


Parenting teens is amazing, but navigating and learning when and how much string to release is not without some challenge.  This is a time when parents and teens need your extra encouragement and support. 

The problem is, that over the years many well meaning Christian families have created models to help others "do better" with the teen to twenty year old years than the secular culture is doing (think:  courtship, being fruitful and multiplying, specific modesty requirements, the trend of discounting higher learning etc.).*

But the doctrines of men tend to do something that is very dangerous for us.  They tend to remove our need to seek the Lord in these matters.  And they tend to make us judgmental if others don't follow along. 

Don't be like that.  Cut the parents of teens (and the teens themselves) a break.

Don't encourage the following of models.  Encourage the following of Christ. 

Cheer on those who are walking the teen years and trust God.  These families may make decisions you don't think that you would.  That's ok.  God may be displaying His creativity, His grace and His ability to work all things together for good for those who love Him.

Above all, love.  God has a plan for these kites.  Let them fly. 

In His grace,

 

 

 

________________

 

 

 

Do you remember the modesty survey by Alex and Brett Harris that everyone was a buzz about years ago?  Faith and I were looking for it the other day as a topic of conversation and found that it is no longer online.  It took very little digging to find people involved with the original project who say that there were so many problems with it, that they now apologize.  Over time, people began to treat it as "the Word" on modesty, or use it to enforce legalism.  Why do we do that?

 

Apparently as soon as we find out about a man made standard has made it immodest to wear a thong style sandal, we will look down on and treat unkindly anyone who does.  Oh, sisters.  The Word is the standard.  Man's word is not.  Let's not be on a high horse with other believers.  This battle is tough enough without friendly fire.  :)

 

 

 

PARENTING IN THE TEEN ZONE

Faith was accepted to a local Christian college.  I'll have to share more about that soon.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” 

~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

If you would have told me that life could get busier with Faithie graduating High School and starting college, I wouldn't have believed it.  I was pretty sure that I was as busy as I was going to get.  But the truth is, as I have ventured into a new season with three teen girls at home, I am busier!

God, in His wisdom, has created seasons for us.  Seasons in nature, seasons in ministry work and seasons within the family.  

When I had a houseful of little ones, I have to admit that I was a little fearful of the next season.  I was enjoying this time of cuddling up for read alouds, baking cookies and facing hurts that could simply be kissed away.  I wanted to ignore the next season...  maybe it wouldn't happen (fingers crossed). 

The teenage years seemed to loom ahead, like the Bermuda Triangle, where all sorts of families go in but not all families come out.  The "Teen Zone."  Creepy-- and no thanks! 

But of course, this was spring thinking.  I was in that first season of parenting and let's be honest, it is just hard to see life as being better than spring when we have only experienced spring.  New babies and fresh tasks are exciting things that fill us with hope and passion.  Seeing little inklings of life pushing up through the soil can be so thrilling, but God intends us to enjoy the pleasure of fruit that is still to come!  And you don't pick fruit in the spring. 

CONTROL IS NOT THE GOAL

In hindsight, I wonder now if part of the fear I felt about moving into the "Teen Zone" was the idea of not having control.  I know that wasn't the entire picture, but when children are little we mommies have a lot of control.  We train our little ones to come when we call, to wear the clothes we want them to wear and to do what we want them to do.  That is good.  That is proper in the spring.  Its also easy- once the training is done anyway.  But having parental control is not the final goal. 

I am sure you watch people like I do.  You've met parents who want to stay in that place of control forever.  Their child is twenty something and they are still telling them (arguing with them over) what movies to watch, what clothes to wear and when to go to bed.  And by doing so, they fail to launch themselves and their charges into the next season.  The sad truth is, that rarely ends well.

Then there are other parents who may also want to stay in the season of spring, and seem to launch or check out way too early, focusing instead on other "spring" projects that bring them the excitement parenting used to.  They go completely hands off with their teens as they focus their attention elsewhere.  That also usually spells trouble.

The goal is not that we will have absolute control over our charges, or that we will have no input in their discipleship, but that we keep pointing them to Christ.  We continue to walk with them, desiring that our children be constrained by the Holy Spirit, not by us. 

The Jews who were without the Spirit required law to constrain them.  And even that law was not enough.  But the Believer in Christ has the Spirit, Who is called the Restrainer to guide and direct him.   

Parental control is not the goal, Holy Spirit control is.

ESTABLISHING CHRIST AS THE AUTHORITY

I find that inasmuch as we made the aim in our home to establish Christ and His Word as the ultimate authority, we have been thankful.

We have had to make a few tweaks here and there over the years, steering away from "we say so" to, "Well, what does the Word say?"

We have had to be willing to lay down pet doctrines that could not be supported by Scripture.  And in laying them down, God has grown us in grace as well.

We have chosen to make concessions over little things-  to shrug off a pair of jeans with a cosmetic hole or an old t-shirt; to say ok to a movie that may not be our favorite style (thank you, Dove Reviews and VidAngel!) and to learn to make recommendations to our older children. 

This doesn't mean that the teens just have free reign so to speak, but we are transitioning into the summer season of life, where the older ones are reading a movie review and telling us that they don't want to watch something that doesn't champion biblical principles, and so on.  It's becoming an internal constraint and not a fight against parental law. 

We are doing our best, God helping us, to treat our young adults with respect.  And they have continued to treat us in kind, considering our desires and feelings over their own. 

We have simply not found that we need to rant over movies, clothing choices and bedtimes.  But we have also found that we need not go against our consciences. 

It is a sweet season.

Little Lyddie is 10.

Michaela is 16.

Sarah turns 14 next month and the countdown is on over here!

 

Hailey is 7-- can you believe it?

Faith is 18.

In the season of spring, our children were nourished by the pure milk of the Word, and now they have matured, they are ready for meat.  We are so thankful to get to be the ones to hash things out with them.  That was always the goal.

Even Faith comes home from college ready to talk through the issues of the day and we ask one another, "Well, what does the Word say?" pretty much every night.   

Now I don't want to give the impression things are perfect.  They are not because we are not.  But the "Teen Zone" hasn't been nearly as scary as we once thought.  In fact, I think we are going to live to tell about it!  



Blessings friends,



______________________________

Have you tried VidAngel yet?  We love it.  :)

DOES GOD CARE ABOUT WHAT WE THINK?

I can't believe it's Back to School time already!

 

 

RIGHT THINKING MATTERS 

 

I just want to say from the start, this isn't a post to add one more burden for anyone to carry.  The point is not that we won't make mistakes in our thinking but that there are times I buzz through life with the false impression that my thinking is inconsequential to some degree.  

Maybe you do too. 

We know that God cares about what we do; how we treat others, spend our time, abilities and resources.  And we know He cares about what we say (our words are to encourage, exhort and so on), but have you given much consideration to the idea that God cares about what we think? 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to school packs.  Each kiddo had their own color.  And a chocolate.  Because
really-- everything is better with chocolate, right?

 

GOOD-BYE STINKIN’ THINKIN’

Recently, I have been reading a lot of verses that have reminded me that our thinking matters.  

Before we were believers, we had a different way of thinking.

Ephesians 4:17-18 says that we are commanded to no longer walk or even think as the Gentiles.

 “no longer walk as the Gentiles also walk, in the vanity of their mind, being darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance in them, because of the hardening of their heart.” 

Our thoughts are new, just like our hearts.  And when they are not, we have a new pattern of how to deal with those thoughts. 

Getting our hands dirty harvesting the last of the garden spoils.

 

 

 

We learn (with ever so much trial along the way) to “bring every thought captive into the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5).

We push out ungodly thoughts and worldview to have “the mind of Christ” (1 Cor. 2:16).

And we make provision to grow in our discernment and understanding (Phil. 1:9).

 

 

All packed and ready for a last little slice of summer-- a day at the lake.

 

 

Yes, God cares about what we think.  I guess that we should too. 

 

 

We had a private beach for hours to play and rest.

 

 

DAVID HAD RIGHT THINKING 

As I have been meditating on the Psalms the past few weeks, I have been so very encouraged  reading David.  Sometimes I think that he has a much clearer view of God as his Father than I do.

Tada!  Sister love.  They played for hours in the lake.

 

 

David’s enemies were ungodly.  That didn’t mean they didn’t go to temple, but  they were slick-talking, self-promoting and vile.  They exposed their own lack of faithfulness with throats that were like an “open tomb” Psalm 5:9. 

 

As a side note, just think about the purpose of the tombs in David’s day.  Remember, they conveniently kept the stink in (John 11:39).  There was deadness and decay inside and people wanted to keep that stench contained.  If only the sharp tongued men who attacked David had a stone placed over their mouths.

 

Smiling at my honey (see me in his glasses?)

 

 

 

But this is really about how David responded when he was literally run out of town by these men, led by his own son Absalom. 

You remember that Absalom had covertly worked to turn hearts against David and toward himself.  He seemed proud to "make a name for himself" like the ungodly men from Tower of Babel.

David's life was turned completely upside down as he was forced to flee far from his home; was cursed by men who misunderstood him and heard the people say, "There is no help for him in God (Psalm 3:2)."

 

 

 

 

Dog surfer by Michaela.

 

 

David, while running from their traitorous hands cries to the LORD: 

 

“But You, O Lord, are a shield for me,

My glory and the One who lifts up my head.

I cried to the Lord with my voice,

And He heard me from His holy hill.”

- Psalm 3:3-4

 

This is right thinking. 

 

 

 

Faithie soaking up the heat and the chance to read.

 

David set his mind on truth.  While others said he was without hope, David rightly believed that God heard his cry and was the lifter of his head. 

 

I am a head lifter.  As parents, we all have opportunities to lift up little downcast heads, don't we?  When a little someone has had their feelings hurt by others, it is our love relationship with that little one, that allows us to lift their little head; look in their eyes; dispel their fears and comfort their heart.  

And David knew that God is our Father in that way.  He is the lifter of our heads. 

 



I love this man like crazy.  We just celebrated 23 years of marriage.

 

 

 Later David said: 

“But let all those rejoice who put their

Trust in You;

Let them ever shout for joy, because

You defend them;

Let those also who love Your name

Be joyful in You.

For You, O Lord, will bless the righteous;

With favor You will surround him as

With a shield.”

- Psalm 5:11-12

 

 

Goodbye sweet Summer...

 

 

David asked that all of those who trust in GOD (that is you and me!) would rejoice, shout and be joyful!  Not because we won't face trials, but because GOD Himself is our shield!   And we can't get a better deal than that.

We know that God has fought for us in the past.  We have seen His faithful hand extended to us.  Remembering those truths and having patterns of thankfulness.

That is right thinking.
 

 

It's been great to visit on the porch with dear long-time friends.

 

 

 

David had it right. 

 

Paul had it right.

 

And they not only remind us of right thinking, but also tell us to protect that right thinking from the crafty and persuasive words of men (Col. 2:4) as we are rooted and built up in Him (Col. 2:6).

 

 

 

Friend love.

Is the way we think really such a big deal?  I guess it is because God placed a warning sign up for us to read in His Word. 

It starts as all serious warning signs do-- with the strong declaration of "BEWARE":

"Beware lest anyone cheat you

through philosophy and empty deceit,

according to the tradition of men,

according to the basic principles of the world

and not according to Christ,

 

 For in Him dwells all the fullness of

the Godhead bodily;

and you are complete in Him,

who is the head of all principality and power."

 

- Colossians 2:8-9

 

 



Unless we guard right thinking, we will be cheated.

Back to School we go!

 

 

 

 

As we get back into schooling our children, or in some cases as we send them to school, right thinking is something worth our attention. 

 

 

 

Dr. Greg Bahnsen, writes in his book, Always Ready:

 

 

 

'"All the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hid in Christ (Col. 2:3-8).'  Note he says all wisdom and knowledge is deposited in the person of Christ- whether it be about the War of 1812, water's chemical composition, the literature of Shakespeare, or the laws of logic! 

 

Every academic pursuit and every thought must be related to Jesus Christ, for Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6)."  p. 4-5

 

 

 

 

As we read the headlines, study academics, interact socially, we have so many opportunities to filter those things through the protective screen of God's Word.   

 

May we clearly show our little ones that all thinking and all wisdom relates back to the One Who made us, sustains us and lifts our troubled heads.

 

What are ways that you are proactively protecting right thinking and growing in discernment?   

 

Because right thinking matters.

 

 

 

May you be blessed!

 

 

____________________________

 

Have High Schoolers this year?  Consider having them read Always Ready by Greg Bahnsen and When People are Big and God is Small!