"If life is a bowl of cherries-What am I doing in the pits?"

Have you ever had a time in your life when you felt like nothing was going right? Have you hit a rough spot in the road lately and wondered why bad things happen to good people? Well, you certainly aren’t alone. Today we’ll look at someone who had it pretty rough.



Job 42:3 Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.

If there was any one man on earth who had reason to question God's love, it was Job. He lost his family, his health, and his wealth-all at the same time. His friends only came to his side only to question his spirituality. God had already answered the question of his integrity. Job was described in the opening verses of the book as "blameless and upright" (see Job 1:1). The situation that he found himself didn’t come from sin. Job recognized and acknowledged God's right to do anything in his life until one day he could take it no longer. He questioned God's motives.

God answered Job, but not in the way he wanted to hear. God answered him with a series of questions that represents the most incredible conversation of correction by God to any human being. Three chapters later, Job realized that he had questioned the motives of the Creator of the universe, the Creator of love. He fell flat before his God and realized his total sinfulness. "Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know."

Have you ever questioned God's activity in your life? Have you questioned His love for you based on circumstances that came your way? The cross at Calvary answers the love question. He sent His own Son in replacement for your sin. If you were the only person on earth, He would have done the same. His ways cannot always be understood or reconciled in our human minds. That must be left for a future time when all will be understood. For now, entrust your life to Him completely. Embrace Him in the hard times and the good.


Walking my way through this world with faith,
Pastor Mike


A Mother's Resolutions

When I forget to go to the grocery store, I will not boil the macaroni necklaces my Children made for me in preschool.

I will pack the kids' lunch boxes the night before so I don't throw in a slab of frozen lasagna as they're running for the bus. "It'll defrost by lunch. If not, you can suck it like an ice pop."
I will resist the urge to explain to strangers why my son is wearing winter boots, a bathing suit bottom, and an inside-out and backward pajama top. I will be grateful that he is able to dress himself.

I will not tell my children that the Play-Doh dried up just because I don't feel like cleaning up after they use it, even though I know it means I'll spend the evening harvesting the colored stuff from the carpet fibers, chair cushions and the dog's fur.

I will always protect the rights of my children, especially their right to remain silent.

I will learn to accept the outbursts and tantrums as a part of life. After all, I promised to love my husband for better or worse.

When my husband and I go to a restaurant without the kids, I will not roll up his sleeves or move the knives from his reach. I will not accompany him to the bathroom and remind him to wash his hands with soap. If my husband wants dessert at the end of the meal, I will not tell him it depends on his behavior.

When I'm tired of hearing "mommieeeeee!" a thousand times each day, I will resist changing my name to "Please pass the spinach" or "TV is boring, I'd rather read."

I will develop an ability to have a conversation with an adult that doesn't revolve around labor pains or children's toilet habits. I will feel comfortable in the silence that ensues when neither of us can think of any other topic to discuss or remember we can always discuss the weather.

I will be more flexible about children's nutritional requirements by counting the ketchup and green crayon as vegetables.

When my children beg for a pet, I will buy them each a hutch for the dust bunnies that have multiplied under their beds. I will let them name each dust bunny.

I will count how often I repeat the phrase "You'd better listen because I will not repeat myself", until my children actually notice that I have spoken. I will not raise my voice until I have said it at least that many times.

When my kids are older (at least 50), I will explain why they never have any chocolate candy left after Mommy and Daddy "check" their Halloween bags.

I will be a good, fair and loving parent to my children. I will provide them with enriching experiences and opportunities. I will give them a solid foundation on which to build a useful life. After all, they may eventually be responsible for choosing a nursing home for me to live out my final days.