Category: Devotionals

Devotionals

When the Path Gets Rocky

http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-image-owie-image4334461

We all stumble in many ways. – James 3:2

It was another hot August day. I was working outside and feeling increasingly irritated in the oppression of the afternoon heat. A hint of smoke from some distant wildfire loitered menacingly in the breeze. Alarmed, I paused to scan the sky for the dreaded pillar that signaled another threat to our home – a yearly occurrence. I saw none. But the brown hills looked the way I felt: tinder dry; brittle; apt to erupt in spontaneous combustion.

The project I was working on with my husband hit a snag. Instantly, we were at odds. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. I stormed away from the argument and grabbed the car keys, using the excuse of needing to pick up the mail as an opportunity to cool off. I cranked the car air conditioner up along with some of my favorite Christian music and headed to the post office.

There was only one letter in the box. The envelope was addressed to “The Wonderful Kevin Thorson and Family.” A pang of guilt shot through me. Kevin was fine, but the “Family” wasn’t feeling too wonderful that day.

My drive did cool me off, but I had to face the fact that I couldn’t blame my attitude on external factors. Why was I stumbling so often lately? What was I missing?

This moment happened several years ago, and now I can identify some of the factors leading up to my meltdown. Some are changeable; some aren’t. But I’m convinced it is less about external factors and more about internal pressures that afflict us all.

So how can we keep on our feet when our path is strewn with unavoidable pitfalls? How do we respond when we find ourselves face down in the dirt? As my daily scrapes and bumps have revealed to me, there are some vital strategies for staying sane:

*Don’t ignore the warning signs. When I’m feeling irritable, it might be lack of sleep, illness, or just the fact I’m letting things get to me. When the red flags pop up, it’s time for a little openness and brokenness with God.

*Make Bible reading as important as eating that next meal. Don’t lean on past knowledge or a set of principles to guide us through the minefield. It’s like using an outdated map to find a new city. God’s Word is active, living, and a well-worn Scripture can jump out at the precise moment it’s needed to save the day. We have to allow God to speak to us if we’re going to avoid the pits.

*Keep alert. Our enemy, Satan, is constantly on the prowl. Don’t get complacent.

*Know our limits. And don’t stray beyond them.

*Think beyond the event to its source. What causes us to lose our cool? Why do we react to certain pressures and how can we defuse those situations?

*Pray actively and constantly. It doesn’t take a “quiet time” to talk to God. Stay on the line with Him all day long. Pray on the fly, in the car, in the bathroom if you must. Be honest and be sure to listen.

*Remember we are just dust encasing a soul. We’re going to fail. We need to forgive ourselves and learn from our mistakes.

Yes, we’re going to fall along the way on our journey. We can, however, learn from our mistakes. God knows we’re prone to failure, but He does’t want us to fail. He wants to give us light for our path and bring us safely to the destination He has planned for us.

In fact, He’s just waiting for us on the path, if we choose to let Him lead the way.

 

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

The Yoke in My Head

1175033_10202069412840840_1167838109_n

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me,
for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS.
For my yoke is easy and My burden is light.
-Matthew 11:29-30

The sun was a fiery ball in the bay sky. A splendid dinner of  barbecued steaks, prawns, and all the good things that go with such a meal sat contentedly in our  stomachs as we gathered on the deck. A friendly wager rested on the exact moment the sun would slip behind the ocean’s vast horizon.

We were enjoying the last hours of an awesome family vacation, our first since our son was injured sixteen years ago. It was a gift from a cherished cousin and her husband, and one that was more needed than I could ever truly express.

My cousin couldn’t know just how raw my soul was.

I have long struggled with Jesus’ words in Matthew 11:29-30. I always understood He was speaking of allowing Him to carry our burdens for us. I just never could reconcile that with the reality of my life. We raised five children, with all its attending joys and cares. I educated all five of them at home, a daunting task at any time, but especially so after our son was injured.

After his spinal cord injury in 1997, we were told caring for him at home would be “impossible.” I had to add “accomplishing the impossible” to my to-do list for each day.

Then circumstances required I return to school and become a licensed practical nurse. In my spare time, after I’ve done the impossible for the day.

Now I am an author, with its attending responsibilities.

Most of these things I have made peace with and even found joy in their midst. Then, lately, a crisis in my extended family descended upon us. The pressure has been nearly unbearable for me. It has been a crushing yoke, permeating my thought life and consuming my days.

The vacation came just in time. At the beach, I was not available to solve a single problem. It wasn’t that trouble wasn’t happening; I simply could not solve anything until I returned home.

The freedom in my brain was exhilarating. In this rarefied air I made a startling discovery:

The yoke Jesus wants me to give up is the one in my head.

He never told us life wouldn’t be hard. In fact, He promised us a life of trial as His disciples. But that wasn’t the yoke He was talking about. He wants to relieve the burdens my soul is carrying.

I thought I already knew this. In principle I understood He wanted me to give Him my life and my problems. And I have always tried to trust God.  What I didn’t realize was how much I worry-think about things all day long. I have been yoked to my thought life, mentally pulling a heavy cart of burdens. It was only when I was unstrapped from them that I realized how much life they stole from me.

We returned after our vacation to new and intimidating challenges here at home. But I am determined to live at the beach. I left that heavy, old yoke in the foaming tide at sunset. I am actively learning to stop whenever I catch myself falling back into old thought patterns of worry and analyzing and trying to sort out the complexities assaulting us. I still have to work, but I don’t have to turn over my soul to it.

If you want to reach me, I will be here.

But my heart is at the beach.

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

To Kill the Longing

silouetteofAaronandKev

We inched down the winding mountain pass toward the ocean, smothered in a thick fog. After ten hours on the road through a fierce thunderstorm, our nerves were frayed. We rounded a curve and our headlights caught a raccoon in the middle of our lane.

The light dissolved his eyes into a watery green glow. He reared up in hapless defiance and raised his little paws as if to fend us off.

My husband swerved, barely missing.

So far, it was the most positive thing that had happened on the trip.

It was our first real family vacation in sixteen years. A generous cousin offered us the use of their beachfront rental for a week on the Oregon coast. Knowing a trip of that length would test our ability to travel with Kevin’s extensive medical needs, we planned as carefully as we could.

Then the week before the trip, The Resistance began. Aaron’s mother had a medical emergency and was ordered by her doctor to go immediately into an assisted living center. The family was inundated with a myriad details to get her moved within a few days.

The day before we left, we were still taking care of her issues while trying to pack. That night, there was a thunderstorm, taking out the power for two hours. Since Kevin sleeps on a ventilator at night, we had to switch his equipment over to emergency power and watch to make sure he was okay.

We left the next day after a few hours of sleep. Immediately out of the driveway, our nearly new van flashed a warning light. We spent an hour in town getting it checked out.

Back on the road again, we watched an ominous storm gather around us. It descended in earnest over the Columbia Gorge. A gale slammed us sidelong and threatened to blow us off the road. Lightning hit so close we actually had to try to keep from touching anything metal inside the van. Thunder boomed above our heads.

We hit Portland during rush hour. “Margie,” our little GPS guide, taunted us by commanding us to crisscross between lanes of heavy traffic. We turned her off and found our own way.

We finally made it to the coastal highway, only to be hit with a heavy rain. As we inched down the winding mountain pass, we were wrapped in a heavy fog.

We arrived at our lovely beach house shaken but unhurt. Our son and daughter-in-law arrived a few hours later, telling much the same story.

“It felt like something out of ‘This Present Darkness,’ ” my daughter-in-law mentioned.

Bingo.

All the time I thought it was just me. The warfare was so intense, it was insane. It didn’t make sense.

My first thought was, “It’s not like it was a Billy Graham Crusade. Why should the devil care that we’re going on vacation?”

Before the week was over, however, I realized why the battle to get there was so fierce. It was a truly blessed time. We played together and prayed together. God spoke to us in the Christian music, the fellowship, the laughter, and the peace. We stood on the beach and listened to the sea. We watched the sun set the water on fire every evening and gloried in the blaze as it sank into the horizon.

I got to see my beloved extended family again. We swapped family stories and laughed and cried until it hurt so good.

In Brazil they use the phrase “Matar saudades.” It literally means, “to kill the longing.” For sixteen years, we have lived in the valley of the shadow. Life has been hard. Many of the simple joys have gone by the wayside as we struggled to make it through each day. For the most part, we’ve adjusted to our new normal and submitted to the discipline it takes to keep Kevin healthy.

We’ve learned to accept hardship as our path. We didn’t expect to encounter something so extravagant, so rich, so abundant. To be blessed with such generosity. To be alive just for the fun of it. To kick sand in the face of loss.

Now I know why it was such a struggle to get here. This was more than a vacation. We came to kill the longing.

 

Photo courtesy Grace Thorson 

 

Recently I had the honor of being featured in an interview with author Aaron Gansky. Check out the interview at http://aarongansky.com/author-spotlight-pamela-thorson/.

By 2 comments2 comments
Devotionals

Sight Unseen

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photo-futuristic-sunglasses-image13962485

We walk by faith, not by sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7

One year our sons received an atomic clock for their office wall. They took it out of the box and showed us how it set itself to exactly the right time for our time zone. As they held the clock up, the hands moved around the face as if by magic, setting themselves to the command of a radio signal sent out from Colorado. 

I was suitably impressed. I didn’t know people could buy clocks that set themselves by radio signal.  

But it shouldn’t have seemed so bizarre. Every day I sit at the computer and take for granted that the images and sounds coming to me have been beamed down from a satellite in space. If I stand outside next to our satellite dish, however, I will see no pictures or sounds moving through the sky. They all exist on a bandwidth my senses can’t pick up until the signals are converted by machines. 

Though I can’t see the signals floating in space, I have no doubt they are there, because I see the images and sounds they produce on my television and computer.We all operate by this same principle daily, accepting what we don’t see, because we see its effects. 

Electricity, for example, can’t be seen by the human eye; yet it is powerful, even deadly. We have learned to respect its power and harness its energy for our use. The wind operates in much the same way -invisible, strong, and real. If I stand outside, I can feel its presence; if the wind blows down a tree, I can see its effects. 

Just try to tell someone electricity and wind don’t exist.

Yet we question the existence of God merely because we have never seen Him. As we accept wind, electricity, and radio waves because we know what they do, we can accept His existence because we can see His power at work all around us. We see His creation, we feel His presence, and we experience the effect He has on our lives as we operate in His Spirit.

We are finite beings, created with limits. There are dimensions we can’t discern with our physical senses because we were not created with that ability. But there is so much more that lies beyond our eyes. It is a world beyond our dreams, revealed through God’s Spirit.

We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen;
for the things which are seen are temporal,
but the things which are not seen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:18

The world we can see is full of uncertainty. But we can walk through it with courage, knowing this world is not all there is. The Lord Jesus Christ left one dimension to enter ours. He purchased, with great cost, a secure future in a dimension more real than the one we call our home. One day it will be revealed to us in all its glory. 

For now, we accept it – sight unseen.  

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

You are Invited

shutterstock_148478906

If you’re reading this today, you’re alive.

Maybe you don’t feel that way.  Instead, you’re barely holding on. You feel numb, unworthy of God’s love.

It’s especially easy to feel that way if you’re one of the thousands of people suffering from chronic disease or devastating injury. Perhaps you’re one of the millions of people who care for them. Either way, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have what most would call a “normal” life.

Boy, have I been there.

Our son’s spinal cord injury in 1997 plunged him into the world of disability and dumped me into the world of caregiving. I quickly learned that the fight for life is as primal as it gets.

It’s a lonely trip. It’s an honor. It’s a tightrope walk between the two stretched over a chasm of uncertainty.

Today I’ve served more than two decades as a caregiver. Every step of the journey, God has held us, even when I didn’t know He was there. His comfort has been the golden oil sustaining me through every trial. He has taught me to relish each day I can breathe and think and worship my Creator.

Rejoicing in the Lord always.

Trusting in a faithful Father for tomorrow.

Life is a gift, an invitation to a very special party. Let’s treasure what we have this moment and believe God will keep eternity safe for us, for the day when the lame walk and God dries our tear-stained faces.

That day’s coming. Until then, we will conquer whatever comes, together. No matter what you’re going through right now, you can be assured you are never, ever alone. You’re important to God, and you’re important to me.

You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re precious in His sight. 

That’s worth singing about. Come on, join the celebration!

By 9 comments9 comments
Devotionals

Fear of Flying, Wild Monkeys, and the Call to Courage

http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-images-sky-image16288374

Courage is never to let your actions be influenced by your fears. –Arthur Koestler

Be strong and courageous, and act; do not fear nor be dismayed,
for the LORD God, my God, is with you.
1 Chronicles 28:20

A cold sweat drenches my palms. Fear courses through me in jagged waves. My stomach lurches wildly as the panic ebbs and flows. I am falling, falling, falling.

Well, not really. It only feels that way as the plane jostles in mild turbulence as it skirts Hurricane Bertha. The year is 1996, and I’m on my first international flight to Brazil with my husband, pastor, and his wife.

Not only did I make it there without incident, we had a wonderful trip and returned safely back to the States two weeks later. Along the way I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, Bryce Canyon, and the night lights of Miami for the first time from the air. We flew above a lightning storm and watched the light show beneath us. Although it was in the dark, we flew over the city of Caracas, Venezuela, the Amazon River, and the Brazilian capital of Brasilia. We landed in Sao Paulo on a sparkling day twenty-eight hours after we flew out from the Spokane airport in Washington.

In Brazil we were introduced to its beautifully exotic land and people. We fed bananas to wild monkeys, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, sang worship songs in Portuguese, and drove over hair-raising roads traversing the country. We visited large cities and slums. We held the babies in an AIDS clinic. We wept and laughed and prayed with the wonderful people we met everywhere.

We returned home more thankful for all we have here.

What an amazing journey I would have missed had I given in to my fear of flying and stayed home!

Our family has been in some fearful places since then. God has always brought us through safely with a new understanding of His glory, richer for the losses we’ve gained.

Lately, doors have been closing and others have been opening. Fear once again sits on the doorstep, baring its ugly teeth and challenging us to pass by. We can stay with what is safe, known, near to the water line of our comfort level.

Or we can take that terrifying step into the skies.

Today the familiar feeling of falling has hit my insides once again. I’m not on a plane right now, but our lives have just entered the boarding gate. God’s revving the engines.

Do you feel God calling you out of the ordinary? Are circumstances driving you to the border of the unknown? How do you handle fear when God calls you out of your comfort zone?

Is faith or fear going to win today?

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

In the War for Independence, Who Will Be Their Voice?

http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-image-us-flag-image22644371

Learn to do good;
Seek justice,
Reprove the ruthless;
Defend the orphan,
Plead for the widow.
Isaiah 1:17 NASB

A heat wave has gripped the nation as the United States celebrates Independence Day. In the midst of withering triple-digest temperatures, a cold wind blows. The chill is coming from the icy fingers of death…the death, that is, of compassion.  

On July 4th of every year we cheer the American Revolution, committed to the radical notion that every human is equal in the eyes of his Creator and deserving of the most basic of freedoms: 

Life.

Liberty.

The pursuit of happiness.

How ironic that the end stage of such a war would, over two hundred years later, those three essential rights would come with asterisks, that the basic foundation stones for our society would be moved at will by those to whom we have charged the defense of our nation.

Today life is only granted for those who are deemed wanted or useful to society. Disabled, defective, or incomplete humans have no place in Darwin’s brave new world of the survival of the fittest. As medical resources have become more scarce, we are already in the process of moving quietly toward allocating care to those most likely to benefit from it in restored contribution to society. 

The tenets of liberty and the pursuit of happiness have also been perverted to legalize perversion and squash religious freedom. The long slide down this slope began decades ago, when we began throwing innocence in the trash along with unborn babies, nativity scenes, and school prayer. 

I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. Over twenty years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from making my disabled mother die because, in his words, “Her life is worthless.” This was not a woman in a coma, but simply crippled and silenced by strokes. 

When she first knew something was going wrong in her body, she told me, “Pam, give me every chance to live.” When the time came to give her that chance, the doctor didn’t even ask what she would want. She was worthless, no longer counted.

Sixteen years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from pulling the plug on our son after his spinal cord injury. Kevin also wasn’t in the mood to die, but that doctor didn’t ask his opinion, either. Evidently, he no longer counted in the economy of life.

One fight occurred in America; one in Canada; but both were part of the deliberate parade toward exterminating those who do not fit our definition of “useful.” This march transcends nations, politics, and administrations. It’s not being orchestrated by doctors, nurses, or even politicians. It’s the heavy boot step of an unseen enemy with one goal: to destroy all humanity and thus hurt and rob the Creator who made us.

He’s found plenty enough help from us. Our society is sick; in fact, our world is sick. As we fall collectively farther and farther from God, the compassion and care for others that naturally flows from His heart falls with it. Life no longer has dignity by virtue of being. The body is no longer considered the temple of a living soul, but a glob of throbbing tissue and random brain waves. Life itself is open to interpretation.

It’s all been complicated by the advance of medical technologies that have blurred the lines between living and dying. When to give up has become harder and harder to decide. I understand the pain endured by many families in making the tough medical decisions necessary for their sick and injured loved ones.

This isn’t about those issues.

This is about speaking for those without either voice or choice. It’s about remembering that we are made in the image of of the great I AM; valued because we are. It’s about those with power using that power to protect the powerless. No one should have to prove that they can be useful on order to deserve life. 

No one but God has the right to give and take life. Nor does anyone have the right to decide who is worthy of our care. The more I learn about what is being done today in the name of medicine, the more I mourn, and the more I determine this:

For those without a voice: I must speak.
For those whose limbs are silent, I will, by the grace of God, be their hands and feet.
To a hurting world, I long, with all my heart, to be the expression of His comfort.

America, America, as we celebrate this birthday, may God shed His grace on us, the undeserving. 

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

Hero

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photo-bold-hero-shiny-red-dark-blue-background-brilliantly-backlit-light-rays-shining-image31528385

Everybody loves a hero. From white knights to Spiderman, Wonder Woman, and firemen – we all adore larger-than-life figures. Hero is a timeless concept, a word chiseled in stone and swathed in red, white, and blue. It evokes images of dashing figures and just-in-time deliverance.

A hero is someone we can believe in, lean on, and trust with our lives and sacred honor. A hero is always there.

My hero is the Lord Jesus. He’s the only person who ever lived a life that was absolutely unsoiled, perfectly gentle, and truly wise. He has never left me forsaken on the railroad tracks of life as the inevitable wheels of death came charging down the rails- although I’ve squirmed a few times as I heard the rumble of disaster approaching. But He’s always arrived…just in time… every time.

He’s big. He’s strong. He’s amazing. He’s the royalty that bends down to pick up the peasant. He’s my King, and He never tires of riding out on the white horse to swoop me up out of my latest fall into some messy pit.

But life for us is not about being the eternal damsel in distress. God has saved us for a purpose:

He calls us to follow Him. He commands us to take on the nature of His Kingdom. He calls us to purity, wisdom, discernment, and courageous action.

He calls us to a life of heroic deeds.

Rise to the challenge. Live like you belong in the Kingdom. Be someone’s hero today.

By 0 comments0 comments
Devotionals

Two Wolves: When Your Soul Is Shredded

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-images-fight-image29183349

There are two wolves inside us.
The one we feed is the one that will grow.
-Native American proverb

The attacks came without warning, one after another. These last months our family has been reeling from a series of setbacks we never anticipated. Problems we didn’t cause and can’t fix.

Yesterday was so bad I just had to escape from the phone and the stress and the numbness shredding my soul. I bolted down the driveway and glanced around, remembering to check for snakes and the coyotes that had been calling this morning up the dry canyon above our house. Occasionally they wander all the way down to the yard looking for wayward scraps or cats.

Usually I alternate between anger and pity for them. Anger when they kill our animals. Pity when the summer is hot and barren and they comb the hillside in mangy coats looking for food.

Yesterday I envied them.

I wanted to flee up the canyon wall far away from humans and their struggles, to find a way out. I needed escape. I wanted to release the fear and the anger and the helplessness.

Actually, I wanted to howl.

Instead, I walked for a bit and returned to the house. Our family circled the wagons, as is our habit when new challenges threaten one or the other of us. We spent the evening together, drawing strength from each other as we enjoyed a meal and movie.

Today, the wolves are again at war. Today I halt between two opinions. Is disaster on the horizon? Or is God at work in a mysterious and mystical way?

Fear and Faith sit at my door. Both are ravenous. Will I feed one and allow myself to be consumed, or will I feed the one that will send the predator packing? Which one will I give my trust?

So it comes to this. I must choose to turn off the outside voices feeding the beast and give my mind permission to feed my starving soul on the goodness of God. This was surely what the apostle Paul meant when he wrote these words:

…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right,
whatever is pure, whatever is lovely,
whatever is of good repute,
if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.
Philippians 4:8

Dwell on what is good and holy. Frolic in the fruit of the Spirit. Reach for the joy set before you. Trust in a faithful Creator.

If you’re as hungry and dry as I am, pray with me:

Here I am, Lord. 
I’m dying on the inside.
My enemy is too strong for me.
Strengthen my faith; teach me how to trust You.
Help me to close my ears to the voice of the predator.
Give me eyes to see Your great power and love.
Feed me.  

Amen.

 

 

By 0 comments0 comments

Follow Me

Copyright 2020 All Rights Reserved