There is always a message in coffee. It can be simply a morning smile in a simple cup. It can also be the message of the cup. Today, as I was searching for my cup of the day, the ‘kind heart’ mug stuck out to me. At this point in my life, the coffee cups I have kept have meaning. Either the message on the cup is a reminder or the giver of it. Each time I am greeted with a message as I drink in the goodness.
I need reminders along the way. I need cues to help me remember. I wouldn’t say I am forgetful. Rather, I find I am overloaded. The things that often scream loudest for my attention are the things that embed in my memory. But these aren’t always the things I wish to store. So I have little things along the way to remind me of the good. My coffee cups are just an example.
Now is the time when we really begin paying special attention to memories. The holidays are upon us. We may find ourselves filling trees with ornaments of years past. We may be cooking recipes of those long gone but not forgotten. Thanksgiving is, in itself, a whole big light show of remembering. We are to remember all we are grateful. We are to give thanks for those people, places, and experiences which have helped to shape and form who we are. We are to live thankfully for all that is behind and all that is ahead. It is a holiday built on remembering. It is one big cue to remember.
Here is something to remember today – something to carry with you. YOU ARE LOVED…YOU ARE NOT ALONE. That is something to put on your coffee cup or hang over your mirror. It is something you should carry with you every day. Why? We should remember this because it is true. It is right. It is real. Remember that God created you, shaped you, formed you. He has not left you alone on the journey. That is something to remember and something for which to give thanks!
Focus Scripture:
Psalm 77:11-12
11 I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord; I will remember your wonders of old. 12 I will meditate on all your work, and muse on your mighty deeds.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
This weekend was full of adventures I treasure. I am grateful for friendships, time in God’s good creation, and even a little rest. Yesterday, I decided it would be good to take my buddy, Leo, to the Cliffs for a walk. I cannot recall him ever being quite so excited. He actually ran in place right in front of his leash – as if that was carrying him somewhere. He was beyond ecstatic. I knew I was in for an adventure from the beginning.
We headed to the Cliffs, windows down, Leo’s jaws flapping ever so happily in the wind. I did have a goal of how many miles I wanted to complete and planned to take it easy. I did a lot on Saturday (at least for me) and this was a recovery. Not much ever goes according to plan in my world. But we arrived and began our trek. It was an absolutely amazing day to be outside, so no complaints there at all. We took the first trail, connected to the second, and I thought it would be good to end with one more. Note – anytime I think I should do one more, it is almost always one too many. We took a trail I had not been on in a while – and couldn’t remember where it took me – and couldn’t remember how long it was. It ended up taking me further than I planned and felt like it would never end. We pressed on anyway – like we had a choice. I’m too stubborn to turn around.
This particular trail merges with other trails. The rising waters of the Neuse shut down some of the paths. So I opted for the one that went up. That’s all good unless you just want to be back at your car. That’s when it happened. I don’t remember why or how, I just remember the slow, painful motion that left me face down in the dirt. Some say that falling is the easy part – but I am not so sure. I felt like I bounced off the ground and hit again. Leo felt sorry for me, came back to rescue me, and I attempted to get up. All I could think was how embarrassing it would be to lay on this trail until someone made their way. Thankfully I was able to get up, but not without some serious effort and feeling really beat up. Did I mention we were on the trail going up? That was fun. We did make it back to the car, eventually. And I am still moving – just slowly.
I was reminded on my adventure that falling down does hurt. It hurts when we have plans and all is moving along well – only to be met with a sudden crash that derails our entire vision. It is painful to move through life only to be knocked down by forces we cannot even see. Falling down is hard. And then we have a choice. We either get up – even if it is slowly and filled with difficulty. Or we lay there until someone comes and forces us up. And even if we decide that we will get up – there is still an upward journey to go. The good news is we are not alone. Leo was my guide on this journey. He was not going to leave my side. He would make sure I had a reason to keep getting up and climbing.
As crazy as this sounds, be grateful for the Leo in your life today. There are those who love you and support you all along the way. There are those who see you fall and are there to cheer you on as you arise, one more time. Falling is hard, but we get up because there is so much more that awaits. And – maybe you are a Leo for someone else. Keep cheering, keep motivating, keep supporting. Falling down is hard, but it is even harder without Leo.
Focus Scripture:
Proverbs 27:17-18
17 Iron sharpens iron, and one person sharpens the witsof another. 18 Anyone who tends a fig tree will eat its fruit, and anyone who takes care of a master will be honored.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
They were grouped together like they had no meaning. They were categorized and set aside – to be avoided at all costs. From the beginning, they were labeled. The things they were called, among many, were diseased, disgusting, deformed, unclean, destroyed, forgotten. They had something that separated them physically from everyone else – and the community never failed to remind them of that. They were the unseen, the excluded. Keep them at a distance and all is better for it. That was the norm until Jesus. He saw differently. He saw humanity, God’s beloved, the created and adored. He saw so much more. He had not lumped them together into some group to avoid. He reached out – literally – where no one dared to reach. He loved where no one dared to love. He restored where all had been taken away.
Jesus probably shouldn’t have been in this part of town. No one who was holy would have dared such a thing. He risked being exposed. If he was exposed to the things which would make him unclean, how could he function in his role of priest and prophet? He couldn’t even enter the temple. That was where he belonged, in the church, not out in the streets among these people. And yet, in his predictable unpredictability he wanders to places he should not have been. It’s like he doesn’t know the rules of the religious – or maybe just doesn’t care.
In this part of town, he risks being too close to those people – you know, the people who were nasty and gross. They weren’t the same. They were invaluable, separated because of being unworthy to live with everyone else. And that’s what happened – see, if Jesus had stayed where he should, he wouldn’t have risked being in any proximity to them. And here they were, hollering to the top of their lungs for mercy. Have mercy, that had to be embarrassing. It was a shame that someone as holy as Jesus would have to be exposed to such low life. And yet Jesus doesn’t see it this way at all. He doesn’t see their diseases. He doesn’t smell their poverty. He hears their cries. These are his people – even though at least one of them is from a different group. You heard that right – one of the people hollering is not like the others. He not only has been excluded by the fear of others, he has been thrown into a group which he would not belong on any normal basis. I guess they figured that when you are excluded and unworthy – you might as well throw them all in the same barrel together. But again, they were Jesus’ people. So Jesus sees them – and he does something about it.
Luke 17:11-19
11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesuswas going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”
Healing can bring on many different reactions. It can evoke deep cleansing tears of a life that has been restored. It can open many doors of joy and elation about what can be one more time. Healing can make us want to jump right back into the life that had been snatched away like a thief in the night. It can make us want to get on with life so quickly so we forget where we once were.
Up until this point, this group had been ripped away from their families and thrown into exclusion. They had lost all they once held so dear. They had not touched or hugged their loved ones in so very long. The idea of embracing anyone else had been so far from their minds that this would be a welcome reunion for the ages. Why would anyone delay such a reunion? Why would you want to put off what they thought would never happen? Life has been restored. Life that had been ripped away had been handed back in an act of love that no one could have imagined. Why wouldn’t we all run to our loved ones in such joy that all else faded behind? It seems perfectly reasonable to me.
But there was one who thought differently. That mercy he has so shouted for, longed for, begged for, and dreamed about had come true. That mercy he had all but given up on had been given. It had been given in such a big dose that he did what came natural to him. He ran back as fast as he could. His feet had been restored so he ran. He was out of breath, panting as he fell on his face just to say thank you. It was more than words. It was an expression of everything he had long held inside. It was a genuine gratitude for a transformation no one could have seen coming. He could not run to his family before he ran to the Mercy Giver. His life could not begin until he had turned back to give thanks for a life that would never be again. To say this was life changing would have been the ultimate understatement. Mercy had restored a hope, a future, and a joy that no one could quite explain. So he ran back to the Giver of Mercy before moving forward with his new life. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Jesus asks an interesting question – not of the man – but of the whole situation. He is not asking this man what happened to the rest. Jesus just kind of throws it out there. He states the obvious. He mentions what others may have sensed. All of them had been healed but one returns. And the one who returns isn’t even the expected one. The one who really shows the most gratefulness for his restoration is the one who was not a Jew. He was already the excluded, even in his regular life. He was already held separate by the Jews – at arms length – avoided. He was already among the undesirable. He had just sunk to the lowest of lows. And here he is, returning. Maybe his restoration was even more beautiful because a Jewish leader had seen him, recognized his value, and provided mercy. Maybe he was so overwhelmed with thankfulness that gratitude seemed the only answer. The others didn’t return – they went on with their new life – their healed life. They went forward. This man did too, but not without first giving thanks. And a bonus – he was healed from the inside out. His restoration was more than could meet the eye. Sure his skin was restored, but so was his heart, his hope, and his joy. He had been given more than he ever lost. Jesus saw a beloved. And Jesus provided mercy.
Our lives may look quite different if our gratitude brought us to the feet of the Giver of Mercy. We may find ourselves not being able to move forward without first bowing to the One who chose to restore. Gratitude may come as a natural response to opportunity for a life we didn’t even know was possible. Gratitude is more than the simple exclamation of thank you. It is a life lived knowing that the change was due to the great Giver of Mercy. May we live in gratitude.
I am usually up for a challenge. I like pushing myself beyond my perceived limits. It drives me to do more. It also reminds me that I have more capabilities than I give myself credit. To be honest, I haven’t felt much like challenges lately. Life has been busy – real busy. I am super grateful for this, but it has changed things for me a bit. I don’t have that same desire to find challenges. My greatest challenge is getting as much done as possible in a day. So the opportunity to do anything different isn’t normally appealing.
There is something about spending the day with good friends, though. It is life-giving to enjoy the outdoors with people you don’t often get to see. In order to do this, I had to take on a challenge. I had every reason not to do it. On the flip side, there was one driving reason – people. So three of us packed into a car and headed west for the day. It was a day of fellowship, good food, and way too much time running and walking (of which I was sorely unprepared to do). It was to be a race – but for some of us, it was a really great time to spend in fellowship with really great people. For this, I could not be more grateful.
Life continues to move forward, sometimes at rapid speeds. If we don’t take the opportunities that are before us, we will miss valuable moments that give us life. An abundant life does not mean more stuff. An abundant life means more time spent enjoying God’s creation with people who mean way more than stuff ever will. It means taking a day to enjoy friendships that began years ago and are meant to last a lifetime. An abundant life is a life spent loving the things money can’t buy. I’m grateful for a glimpse of abundance.
What can you do to live the abundant life? What does it look like to spend more time doing the things which are life-giving? How might you take some time out of the hectic insanity of life to enjoy all that God has already provided? May you be filled with life, real life today. And may God’s abundance overwhelm you and cause you to exclaim “THANK YOU!”
Focus Scripture:
John 10:10
10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
Perfectly laid plans do not always come to life as we would hope. That became quite tangible last night. I went to bed as usual, but something wasn’t quite right. Leo seemed to be disturbed by something. As it turns out, we had an unwanted visitor. Yesterday, I had to make several trips from the garage to the house. So I made it easy on myself and left the door open to the garage. Since I was moving most of it myself, this kept me from trying to open and close doors constantly with arms that were occupied with stuff. That part went fine. The part I wasn’t counting on was that this would open the doors to visitors I had not invited. In this case, it was a mouse.
Most, if not all, of us have dealt with having a mouse in the house. What we haven’t dealt with before is having Leo in the house with a mouse. That is a combination which was new and it wasn’t good. It turns out, Leo is afraid of mice. Yes, a large dog is afraid of a tiny mouse. You can see why this would not go well. He goes around the house barking. A single annoying bark endlessly repeated so that everyone (and I do mean everyone in the house) knows there is a mouse. Then he crawls up as close to you as physically possible while you ‘get it’. During the daytime, this might pose a cute picture. At night, this is a frustrating array of chaos that takes away any rhythm of normal or rest. Leo climbed all over my head and the nightstand. He needed someone to get the mouse and he was not going to rest until someone did. And since these things are not that easily resolved, it just continued on and on and on. I dealt with it as long as I could. So finally, I chose to go lay on the couch. I don’t get a lot of rest, so sleep is valuable to me.
While I opted for the couch, I just knew Leo would choose the bed where he could snuggle up next to Wendy. Again, I miscalculated what would happen. He decided the couch was the best – with me. So here we were, wrapped up together on the couch, fighting his mouse fears and hoping for some sleep. Leo was so close, his breath almost became one with mine. I am not much for this close contact. But if it meant rest, whatever. And so we rested – too close for me to even move – but we still rested.
Things just don’t always turn out as we plan. Unexpected visitors cause chaos (crazy family show up to holiday meals). Sometimes the meal doesn’t turn out right. Sometimes fear seems to take over it all and the best we can do is cling tight and hang on for the ride. Whatever it may be, know that the morning comes. It brings new perspectives and new mercies. The sun will rise again and maybe it will all come together. If not, we will just continue to stick together – the mouse will eventually leave, right?
Focus Scripture:
Leviticus 3:21-23
21 But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
22 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; 23 they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
You are being watched. That sentence seems a bit creepy. To know we are being watched makes us uncomfortable. We don’t want to be watched. But we are, whether we choose it or not. And in this case, I don’t mean by drones or such. When I am home, Leo is always watching. He is anxiously awaiting my next move. His hopes include a treat or a ride in the car. If I touch the leash, he is all over himself. If I move towards the treat container, he has already stuck his head in. But we are watched even more intensely than Leo watches me – and that is intense. We are watched by God. And that is good.
This morning, I was reading Psalm 47. This Psalm begins with this, “Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of joy. For the Lord, the Most High, is awesome, a great king over all the earth.” I hear the sounds of clapping and singing for joy. It is the loud and heartfelt praise that fills a room so powerfully it feels as though the walls will burst open. It is the praise that lifts your spirit higher than your situations. It is a joyful shout that truly exclaims the goodness of God.
But not every day is good and we don’t always feel like shouting. Some days are rough and depressing and anxiety driven. What about those days, God? What do we do with those. And then, I am reminded of these words – as if sung by God as a lesson. The words of His Eye is on the Sparrow fill my heart, mind and being. And I am reminded that I sing because God loves me. God watches over me. God is with me. And I have nothing to fear, no reason to be discouraged, and certainly no reason to not sing.
Today, let’s clap and sing – God is with us. Shout of his goodness. May his joy so fill our hearts that our anxieties have no room to occupy. May we sing because we are happy and free.
His Eye is on the Sparrow
Civilla D Martin, 1905
Why should I feel discouraged Why should the shadows come Why should my heart feel lonely And long for heaven and home When Jesus is my portion A constant friend is He His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches over me His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches me
I sing because I’m happy I sing because I’m free His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches me (He watches me) His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches I know He watches I know He watches me
I sing because I´m happy I sing because I´m free His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches me (He watches me) His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches me (He watches me) He watches me I know He watches Me
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
One of my favorite characters is in Dr Suess’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas!. What a beloved story for so many. It is, of course, the Grinch that most captures my attention. I have one in my yard thanks to a good friend. I have one that rides in the car with me during the Christmas season. He’s fun and he embodies my attitude sometimes. It doesn’t take Christmas to have a “grinchy” attitude. Some days are just like that. Everything seems to take us down and we come back with an attitude which is anything but kind and loving.
We may miss the key character in this beloved story, though. While the Grinch gets more airtime than most anyone else, he isn’t the key (at least not in my humble opinion). He does represent the nastiness some of us feel. But for me, the key to it all is found in the little girl, Cindy Lou Who. She doesn’t notice what everyone else notices about the Grinch. She doesn’t see the mean one. She doesn’t seem to understand how everyone else is so afraid of him and despises him. Cindy Lou has a childlike view of the Grinch. She sees potential and possibilities. She is the one that helps him see how life can be different. Cindy Lou wasn’t willing to take the view others would have given her. She sees something good. Cindy Lou changes everything.
We all need a Cindy Lou in our lives. We need someone who sees the good in us and reminds us of it. We need those faithful friends who love us despite ourselves. Our Cindy Lou can come in many different shapes and sizes. It could be our spouse, our family member, our best friend, a coworker, or even a faithful companion like Leo. Remember the Grinch did have Max.
Whenever I am having a “grinchy” day with a “grinchy” attitude, I am grateful for Cindy Lou in my life (and I have more than one, thankfully). I am grateful to be spurred on to goodness, to kindness and to love. And I can only hope to be the Cindy Lou for someone else. May we see the good in one another and inspire each other to love.
May you have a non-grinchy day. And may your day be filled with a Cindy Lou Who.
Focus Scripture:
Hebrews 10:23-24
23 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
Every single morning, I get the beauty of a new painting. I haven’t done anything to deserve it. There is nothing particularly special about me to have such a gift. Sure, I live with an artist. And while her paintings do adorn the walls of my bedroom, these aren’t the paintings I am describing. This painting is a new view each and every day. Nothing about me changes necessarily. It is the Artist, starting a new day with a new painting. It is sometimes gentle and easy. Sometimes the painting is more explosive and demanding. But it is always new.
If you take the time to see the world around you with childlike vision, it is amazing what you will discover. I walk/run the same route every single morning. Nothing significant about my route changes. Consistency is my jam. But as I roll out of bed each morning, a beautiful painting begins to take shape – with or without me. The sun begins to rise. Yes, it happens every single day. But each day seems to bring a unique look. The vividness of the colors are different. There is always something new to discover.
At first glance, it may appear the same. We should never base anything on a first glance, though. There is so much more. There is enough that it takes my breath away nearly every time. I am even surprised by the beauty.
This morning’s painting came with a bonus. As I was traveling, I caught a glimpse of a falling star. And just like that, I was amazed. Do stars “fall” all the time? Sure, they do. But do they fall in front of me? That doesn’t happen nearly as often. And when it does, just wow. Today’s painting was even more awe-inspiring than usual. But I did have to get out of bed. I did have to get moving to see it. Most importantly, I had to be willing to pay attention and to see with a lens which wasn’t cynical or too grown up. I had to be willing to see it all again…for the first time. And because I was, the painting was more magnificent than I could have imagined.
May your views become brand new. May your eyes see the painting being composed right before you. May you be amazed by the Artist.
Focus Scripture:
Job 38:34-38
34 “Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? 35 Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go and say to you, ‘Here we are’? 36 Who has put wisdom in the inward parts,
or given understanding to the mind? 37 Who has the wisdom to number the clouds? Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens, 38 when the dust runs into a mass and the clods cling together?
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
I’ve always heard the saying, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. If that is the case, then the road of the extra mile is paved with kindness. I had an ‘extra mile’ experience recently. I always run early in the morning – it is a better start to my day. Running, coffee, Jesus, and family help to get each day kicked off the best (and of course Leo is included in the family). I’d take Leo running with me but some of you all struggle with the whole driving thing and you scare me by myself – but I digress. On a recent morning run, I was moving at my normal slow easy pace (read turtle pace) and a truck was coming. The truck didn’t move over and even seemed to veer closer to me. This is not uncommon. So I do what I always do…move off the road. It did seem the truck came a little closer than most so I gave it my – what is wrong with you – gesture. I kept moving forward. This is not unusual in the least. This happens so often, I adjust and just keep moving. I may mutter how I can’t believe people don’t pay attention, but it doesn’t really change anything. But this time was different. In my 12+ years of running on this same road, I have never had this happen – ever. I was moving along and heard a truck behind me – no big deal. The driver slowed down beside me as I ran and rolled down his window. And then, words were spoken I have never heard on a run. “I’m sorry – I didn’t see you”. That’s right – he turned around and came back to apologize to me. He took the time out of his morning to apologize for not seeing me. He must have seen me in his rearview mirror after he passed. I didn’t know what to say – no one has ever apologized. So I just thanked him for not actually hitting me. And I told him it was fine and I really appreciated him coming back. The truth is – I was in shock. I didn’t know what to say. But he made my day. He reminded me that the extra mile is paved with kindness.
Since then, I have been trying to consider ways to travel the extra mile. I have been thinking of ways to spread kindness in unexpected and joyful ways. Kindness is contagious like that. Once we experience it, we want to share it. Where have you experienced unexpected kindness? And even more importantly, how can you share it with someone else today? I don’t suggest scaring a runner and then apologizing. But I do suggest look at your normal day – there are those who need kindness all around. Today is the day to share it.
Focus Scripture:
Matthew 5:41
41 and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
As a kid, I always dreaded Mondays. I think I started dreading them on Saturday morning knowing they were on the way. By Sunday afternoon, misery had set in. There were a host of reasons for it – and some of them were valid, but regardless these were the facts for me. Anxiety had a way of stealing the joy of the time I did have.
As an adult, it has gotten much better. I try to enjoy each day as it comes. But I must admit, that dreaded Monday morning anxiety still tends to creep in. I love what I do. I enjoy the people I work with. I have an amazing family. I have no real reason to have any worries. But Sunday, I felt it. That twinge of dread appeared like an unwelcome guest that has already spotted you are home. I am determined not to let it win.
So this morning, this beautiful Monday morning, I awake and arise. I do more than roll out of bed, I arise to the newness of a day made by God. On my morning journey, I notice the orange tones beginning to pop out of the horizon as God ushers in a new dawn. I hear the babbling of a brook (ok, so it was a ditch of running water, but you get the point). And there was much prayer involved. I needed God to show me the good in this day. I needed to know how to spread kindness. I wanted the chaos of this world to calm.
As I prayed and looked for God to speak, the stars sparkled. And for a moment, God seemed to say…this world is chaotic but you do not need to be. I was reminded of a scripture my kids learned in Bible drill. It is one I have said more times than I can count. This has become a place to return when the anxiety seems to be greater than I can handle. It is held in 2 Timothy 1, but God today opens it in my heart, “7 for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.” Power, love, and self-discipline – those are the things which I am given. These are the things which you, too, are given.
May we live, not in fear or anxiousness, but in power, love and self-discipline. And, indeed, may it begin with me.
Photos included in Devotions are captured by David Cain – The Cain Gallery. Photos are available for sale by contacting The Cain Gallery
SEEING THE EXTRAORDINARY 
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