Can a command also be an invitation?
This is the question I’ve been pondering.

I love invitations. They offer a choice. Commands sometimes threaten. Am I able to fulfill them?

According to Hebrews 4:12, “… the word of God is living and active…” Do I read like I trust that? If the Word is living, does that mean I can have a conversation with God?

Or am I reading words on page that may or may not relate to where I’m living today? Am I reading merely to check off my Bible reading chart? Am I reading because that is what a good Christian is expected to do? Am I looking for something or am I listening to the God of the universe, the God who calls me His child? The God who invites.

Looking or listening?

I’m realizing my reactions, my questions, my communication with God as I answer the above questions speak to my desire and experience as I read.

Recently I listened to a sermon on John 15:1-17. If this parable is familiar to you, you know  that the point of this parable is fellowship with God. (All parables have one main point.) It is the last of Jesus’s “I Am” statements. “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser.” John 15:1.

The word abide might have jumped into your mind. It’s used 11 times in the first 17 verses of John 15 in the ESV. In the NLT and the NIV, abide is translated remain. The Message rendition of this passage further clarifies with the terms, live in me, make your home in me, being joined to me, remain intimately at home in my love.

So how do I understand abide? Is it a command? Is it an invitation? Is it both? What does it look like to obey?

“If you abide in me,
and my word abide in you,
ask whatever you wish,
and it will be done for you.”
John 15:7

It is a command. But I’m thinking this command is also an invitation to mature (verses 8 & 11), to experience answered prayer (verse 7), to be aware of God’s love (verse 9), and to experience joy (verse 11).

God is offering me an invitation, a choice.

So I might ask, God what does it look like for me today to stay intimately connected to you? (The Message) How can I abide in you? What does it mean for your words to abide in me? (ESV) What does it mean for me to remain? (NIV) What invitation are you offering me today?

I think I’m being invited into conversation and into a deeper friendship with God. It seems to me that this command is an invitation.

Could that be true with other commands in the scriptures? Might my obedience show I’m responding to God’s invitations? I want to abide, to remain, to be intimately at home in His love!
I want to grow my relationship with God.

For many years I’ve prayed the words of Psalm 112. “Praise the LORD! Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who greatly delights in his commandments!” (verse 1) Fearing the LORD could also be translated, walking appropriately in the presence of God. So one who fears the Lord is one who is walking appropriately with God by taking great delight in his commandments. I can’t think of a better way to show God that I delight in His commands than to view those commands as invitations for deeper connection with Him.

“I’m challenged to read the imperatives (the commands) of scriptures
as invitations to enjoy my identity as the beloved child of God; to walk with Jesus.”
Russell Moore

I’d love to know your thoughts.

 

Copyright: Sue Tell, March 2025

 

 

Please tell me, I’m not the only one!

Have you ever thought you might be the only one?
Have you ever heard the same message from multiple sources?

If you answered yes to either of the above questions, be assured, you’re not alone!

It was only one week. The Bible study I participate in is studying Acts. We were reviewing Paul’s testimony in Acts 22 that week.

As I sat and listened to the speaker on campus a few nights later, sharing on Matthew 28, he referenced Paul’s testimony in Acts. I heard the voice of God.

Then the pastor in church that Sunday preaching through James emphasized a similar point. Okay, God, You have my attention.

The pastor spoke about the metaphor James uses in chapter one of a mirror. “For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like.”
James 1:23, 24.

The pastor went on to explain, our natural face is the face of our birth. It is the picture of who God created us to be; the purpose we were born with. It challenged — Who did God create me to be? How can I live that out?

As Paul recounts his testimony of how he came to Christ in Acts 22:6-16, he shares how when he fell to the ground, was surrounded by a great light, and heard a voice (verse 7), he immediately responded with a question, who are you Lord? (verse 8). Jesus identified himself and Paul (then still Saul) follows it up with a second question, what shall I do Lord? (verse 10).

Jesus was no longer that carpenter from Nazareth he had been persecuting. Saul knew Jesus was his Lord!

As Paul shared his testimony in Jerusalem. He started by identifying himself as a Jew, from Tarsus, a citizen of no obscure city (Rome), educated by Gamaliel, zealous for God (“as all of you are this day.”) He continues by how he persecuted and delivered to death followers of the Way (Jesus).  Acts 21:39-22:5.

And then he shares his encounter with Jesus on the Damascus Road. And those two BIG questions:

Who are you, Lord?
What shall I do, Lord?

Jesus responded to his first question, ‘I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting’.
Acts 22:8.

Jesus, the one who gave Saul his identity. Jesus held up his mirror and Saul beheld his natural face, the person he was created to be.

Saul’s next question was the natural follow-up, what shall I do, Lord?

I pondered my background and God whispered, — your identity doesn’t rest in your family of origin. Your identity doesn’t rest in where you were born. Your identity doesn’t rest in your education. Your identity doesn’t rest in you zeal. Your identity rests in me, in being my child.

“But to all who did receive him,
who believed in his name,
he gave the right to become children of God,
who were born, not of blood
nor of the will of the flesh
nor of the will of man,
but of God.”
John 1:12, 13

The second question is just as important. Ananias answered that question for Saul a few verses later. “The God of our fathers appointed you to know his will, to see the Righteous One and to hear a voice from his mouth; for you will be a witness …” Acts 22:14, 15.

God reminded me of two importants that week. He reminded me of my identity. He reminded me to be asking, what would it look like for me to trust you today? Or in Paul’s words, what shall I do, Lord?

Who do you see when you look in your mirror each morning?
How might God respond if you ask, what would it look like to trust you today, Lord?

Copyright: Sue Tell, March 2025

 

 

 

 

 

Go?
Delay?
Postpone A-GAIN?
Cancel?

By the time you’re reading those questions, we will know the answer.

 

 

Our soul waits for the LORD;
he is our help and shield.
Yea, our heart is glad in him,
because we trust in his holy name.
Let they steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us,
even as we hope in thee.
Psalm 33:20-22, RSV

I remember the date, February 16, 1969, two days after Valentine’s Day.

Bill came over to my dorm that Sunday evening excited to share with me. We had been dating for about a year, and had mutually agreed to take some time off to discern God’s heart for our relationship.

February 16, 1969 is the date we mark as our engagement!

Bill shared how the above scripture confirmed his desire for our future together. All the plural pronouns — “our”, “we”, “us” — six times in the three verses spoke God’s heart to him and for us.

There is also another theme running through these verses, waiting, trusting, hoping. The words of Psalm 33 spoke a promise to us, a promise without timing. It would be 3 1/2 years before we married.

This week is another opportunity to wait, to trust, to hope. Different circumstances, the same need. The questions at the top were our reality. Our plan was to leave for a campus visit in two days. But the weather! Ahhhhh, Colorado!

I snapped the above photo as I sat on our deck that morning with only a sweatshirt for warmth. The sun and the blue-sky gave no indication of the blizzard slated to come our way within the next seven hours!

As I enjoyed the morning, I reviewed that promise. Waiting, trusting, hoping were still relevant.

But God pointed me to the second line, “he is our help and shield.” Our shield, John Calvin in his commentary on The Psalms, describes as an impregnable fortress. 

My mind wandered to another truth that God has whispered to us many times in our marriage, Psalm 84:11. Two phrases stood out: in the first line, God is described as a shield.In the third line, no good thing does he (God) withhold. 

God’s shield is for our protection; it is our impregnable fortress.

God will not withhold good. Our good is also the good
of those on the campus we are planning to visit.

Those truths allow me to rest with the questions: go, delay, postpone, cancel!

Psalm 33:20-22 is the doxology for a Psalm on God’s steadfast love. God’s answer rests in his steadfast love. Calvin also says, “… there is nothing better than to commit our welfare to God.”

Promises do not have an end date!

Update: The blizzard turned into a fairly minor winter storm. We were glad to be able to go. And now we’re home again enjoying spring-like weather.

 

Copyright: Sue Tell, March 2025

 

 

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A quick personal note: For those who sign up to follow Echoes of Grace, I also send a brief devotional email. I add a bit more to what I share on the blog. And I always include the link to the current blog, a reminder that new words are live. If you haven’t signed up, please do! I’d like to include you with my friends who receive this Mailchimp note.  Now for a story from our wedding.   FMA, sue

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“As I was with Moses, so I will be with you;
I will never leave nor forsake you.”
Joshua 1:5

My wedding day, the day I had dreamed about since I was a little girl, was arriving soon. I had reserved the church, hired the caterer, and invited the wedding party. My gown waited for me in the bridal salon.

And then, the hurtful phone call: both friends who had agreed to stand up with me changed their minds and backed out! Both of my bridesmaids deserted me.

Abandoned by those I called friends, my grief was real and deep. Feelings of loneliness overwhelmed me as questions raced through my mind. How do I share this news with my mother? What will people think of my friends?

I was confused and devastated as my dream wedding turned into a nightmare. Tears and more tears fell until I thought I’d have none left to cry.

And then Jesus’ cry to God from the cross echoed in my heart. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46).

I found comfort in knowing that Jesus knew what it was to be forsaken, abandoned, and alone. I heard God whisper, Sue, I am trusting you with this story. How will you respond? Will you return My trust?

And I remembered.

“The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:5-7).

God is near. He hears my prayers. His peace goes beyond my understanding, and my responsibility is to trust Him.

And to forgive as Christ forgave me (Ephesians 4:32).

By the grace of God, I am friends with both of these ladies today. God say my hurt and whispered truth. I forgave and received His peace. I was never alone.

Father, thank You for the stories You entrust me with–
even those that are painful in the moment.
Thank You that You are forever with me.
Even when I felt abandoned and alone, You were working in my heart to show Your wisdom and glory.
Thank you for Your trustworthiness and grace.
And thank You for how this story echoes Your heart.
In Jesus’ name, amen.

God works through abandonment and loneliness to demonstrate His trustworthiness and grace.

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This is one of my stories shared in Praying Through Loneliness. This 90 day devotional book includes stories from several women from college age to grandmas (like me). You will recognize the names of some of the contributors, others will be new to you. Although you may not identify with the specific stories shared in each devotional, you will be able to plug in your own story and you’ll identify with the feelings each brings. I highly recommend this book for your edification.

 

Who am we? Why are we here? These questions, tightly interwoven are crucial to enjoying who God created us to be.

“For we are his workmanship,
created in  Christ Jesus for good works,
which God prepared beforehand,
that we should walk in them.”
Ephesians 2:10

 How do plan, purpose, and passion inter-relate? How do these words speak?

“For we are his workmanship,”

I am his — God’s — workmanship. No question. These words shout truth, these words shout identity. “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139:13. I belong to God. I am his child. “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” I John 3:1. No question!

Being his workmanship defines who I am, my created identity.

Part of his workmanship, is not only physical being, it is our heart, our passions, our purpose, God’s design for all of me.

“Created in Christ Jesus for good works,”

Growing up, in my college years (when my faith became real), even into early years of marriage, this was a foreign concept. I didn’t even think about it. I was just putting one foot ahead of the other.

But God. God had a plan. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD,” Jeremiah 29:11. Although I memorized that verse early in my Christian life, I wasn’t listening to its truth. It was encouraging in a nice kind of way, but knowing the words is merely information, not transformation.

I longed for transformation. Transformation resulting from living my purpose.

“Purpose is the DNA of your soul, knit into you from the moment of conception. It is the pattern from which everything about you originates. You don’t find purpose. You live and let purpose reveal itself to you.” Saundra Dalton-Smith, MD.

If you looked at my life in those early ministry years, you might think, I know what’s important to Sue. I think I knew too; but there was a disconnect. I was living from perceived expectations, not from an understanding of purpose.

“God not only loves you very much
but also has put his hand on you for something special.
Something happened in you.
Your lives are echoing the Master’s Word,”
from I Thessalonians 1:4-9, The Message rendition

God loving me leads to my life being an echo* of his Word. Identity leads to purpose.

And it is God’s purpose being lived out through his children.

“God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works
but because of his own purpose and grace,
which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began,”
II Timothy 1:9 (underline mine)

I am the work of God’s hands so that he might be glorified! Isaiah 60:21. My purpose is not about me. It’s about God’s glory.

“which God prepared before hand,”

This is security, the source of significance;  this is grace. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” Ephesians 2:8 and 9.

Another of those early scripture memory verses that I divorced from its context. Because of the grace of salvation, not my works, God endowed me with purpose.

“The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me:
your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever.
Do not forsake the work of your hands.”
Psalm 138:8

“that we should walk in them.”

We should walk. I hear God’s heart in three ways: there is a path (walk in them);  I should keep moving; and the translation is walk — not run.

This speaks of passion. I want to continually be walking on the paths God has created for me.

What about you? What do you hear from these scriptures?

 

Copyright: Sue Tell, February 2025

*The name, Echoes of Grace, comes from this scripture.

 

Several months ago I had an argument with someone I’ve known for years. It was an unexpected clash, not par for the course of our relationship at all, and I came away from it shocked and a little bruised.

The gnarly part was that there didn’t seem an obvious way to resolution; as well as feeling awash with the emotions of it, it wasn’t clear how to move forward.

Such incidences are unwelcome aren’t they? In this situation it was a conflict, but it could very well have been an illness, or an accident or any kind of bad news. Something happens and the waters of life are stirred up. We’re disoriented and don’t know what to do next..

My strategy for the last few months has been to keep this incident on a shelf in the corner, attempting to pretend it doesn’t exist. In the main that’s worked quite well, but every now and then something will happen that brushes up against the as-yet unhealed bruise, and I find myself unable to ignore the discomfort. The throbbing pulsates right through me, and it’s as painful as ever.

This happened a few weeks ago. A completely different person did something that hurt my feelings a little, and I found myself reacting disproportionately strongly. I was awash with indignation and feelings of being hard-done-by, and even as I was experiencing them, I knew the throbbing was the original wound, rather than the current smite.

So the next morning, I reluctantly took the conflict down from the shelf where it had been gathering dust, and sat with it and the Lord.

Before me I had the words of Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 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.

Words poured out of me as I described to the Lord the stew I found myself in. Disappointment. Frustration. Anxiety. A litany of injustice and hurt.
As I sat with the words, I felt low. I’m drowning.

Then, as sometimes is my habit, I started to draw a stick man, carrying a big weight. I knew that in order to put on the easy yoke of Christ, I would first need to shed the yoke that was currently weighing me down. Release and receive. So I sketched myself with a bundle of hurt, bigger than I could carry.

I didn’t want it any longer.

When it came to sketching the yoke of Christ that I had been given in exchange (for it is not possible to wear two different yokes at once), I drew it as a soft collar around my neck, and coloured it in with the orange highlighter I had next to me. I scribbled the word grace on it.

As I sat with the image of a stick man wearing an orange collar, it immediately reminded me of a type of buoyancy aid we might wear while watersporting. A buoyancy aid of grace.

The significance of this picture hit me straight away. I was awash in choppy seas and couldn’t see dry land. I’d spent the last few months treading water with this issue, and I was tired: not at all confident that I wouldn’t sink.

The relief was immediate. I could almost feel the soft inflated plastic around my neck, inviting me to rest my weary self.
Beneath, the waves remained dark and choppy; I still couldn’t see the shore. But my legs no longer had to uselessly flail.

I could float..

In the weeks that have followed, the gnarly unresolved situation has continued to aggravate. But something significant has shifted internally.

I’m no longer afraid.

It’s strange to say, but there have been moments when being aware of this buoyancy aid of grace has led me to feel something of a playfulness, which seems odd when the situation remains prickly. I’ve got enough experience of being out on the water to know that being held upright, safe, in a large choppy loch is actually quite…fun. I’ve found myself internally challenging Jesus Come on then, the pressure is off me, show me how you’re going to resolve this situation with your grace. It’s not an abdication of responsibility as such, but a sort of sacred detachment, an acknowledgement that my life is not my own.

I don’t know what I need to do to get to steady ground with this issue, but one thing I’m confident of is that his grace IS sufficient; his power is made perfect in my weakness. .

When we come to Jesus with our tangled situations, what we’re effectively calling out is Save me! We’re crying out from the midst of the storms.

The buoyancy aid we’re handed doesn’t immediately remove us from the squall. Circumstances don’t immediately ease.
But we are safe. Our heads are above water. We will not be drowned.

And that’s true whatever the cause of the gale. Life has unexpected weather almost every day. We are utterly dependent on these buoyancy aids, but often we try and swim on our own. There’s no need! There’s no need at all, yet our stubborn instincts are so quick to tell us otherwise.

Such is the miracle of life in Christ that our hailstorms are an invitation to be carried. To float, safe and free, in the arms of the One who is our buoyancy aid. Who always keeps our head above water. Who always leads us home.

At Bible study last week, our leader asked us each to bring one of our favorite scriptures on God’s love to study this week. Because I pray over it almost daily this scripture popped into my mind.

“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us,
that we should be called children of God!
And that is what we are!”
I John 3:1, NIV

It speaks of my identity. More than a wife, a mother, a grandmother, I am a child of God! I live out those other identities through that reality.

It speaks of God’s nature. He lavishes his love! According to the Oxford Language Dictionary: bestowing something in generous or extravagant quantities. Miriam Webster says, bestowing profusely.

God generously and profusely loves me (us) by bestowing his love, by calling me his child.

Earlier this week, Sonja and were talking about our love of flowers. When our husbands show up with bouquets (thank you Valentine’s Day), we care for them. We diligently trim the stems; we give them fresh water; we feed them with those tiny fertilizer packets. And we enjoy them for a time. But their time is short; there are no roots; nothing to keep them nourished and growing; they are not planted.

“Blessed is the man …
his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water
that yields fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.”
Psalm 1:1-3

“The righteous flourish like a palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD;” Psalm 92:12, 13.

I question. Are these just familiar, encouraging scriptures, or am I putting myself in a place to allow them to transform me? Am I planted?

Do I want my life to look like the short-lived beauty of the flowers or the beauty of the trees.

Paul exhorts in II Thessalonians 3:5, “May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ.” (italics mine)

Direct my heart. What does it look like to allow God to direct my heart to his love — to not just know scriptures in my head, but to truly embrace them?

Knowing is not enough!  Knowing is head knowledge; believing is heart knowledge. 

Trust is the key to moving that knowledge from my head to my heart.

So I pray, God, what would it look like in the midst of the hard realities swirling around me to trust your love, to allow myself to be directed to your love? 

Directed to the steadfastness of Christ. The dictionary challenges as I look up steadfastness — the unwavering love of God.

Often the stories surrounding me feel like a roller-coaster with major highs and lows, not even keel, steadfast, unwavering.

God asks, will you Sue, allow me to direct you to my steadfast, unwavering love even in your roller-coaster reality? 

YES! I have no choice.

My faith cannot be rooted in my ability to understand.
My faith must be rooted in trust.
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.”
Proverbs 3:5

“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirst for you;
my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked up you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied …”
Psalm 63:1-5 (italics mine)

The scripture I’m bringing to Bible study is II Thessalonians 3:5.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright: Sue Tell, February 2025

 

 

 

 

 

Vigilant: the state of being alert, wide awake, aware of danger.

“Be sober-minded; be watchful.
Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion …”
I Peter 5:8

 

 

Watchfulness: being observant, continuously attentive, eyes open to God.
WordHippo – “proactive engagement with one’s spiritual life”.

“Continue steadfastly in prayer,
being watchful in it with thanksgiving.”
Colossians 4:2

 

Two similar concepts with two different foci. Both necessary.

Vigilance is the idea of danger, that which is to be avoided. As believers we need to be aware.

Matthew 4 records the narrative of Jesus being led by the Spirit … to be tempted by the devil, his adversary. Tempting, one of the main tools in the devil’s toolbox was his weapon of choice after Jesus had been fasting for 40 days. The devil tempted, command these stones to become bread. Jesus, you’re hungry, fix your problem. Jesus knew truth; he knew the devil’s tactics; he quoted Deuteronomy 8:3, “… man does not live by bread alone …”

Jesus was vigilant, wide awake to the devil’s schemes.

I was in the congregation squirming on those uncomfortable folding metal chairs. She was on the platform weaving story after story captivating those around me, but not me. My focus was in the wrong place. Why wasn’t I sharing my story? I have more to share than she does and better stories. COMPARISON!! The devil was having a hay-day with me. Like Jesus, I knew the truth; I knew the scriptures say, II Corinthians 10:12, “… they who compare themselves among themselves are not wise.” But unlike Jesus, I chose to ignore it. I chose to wallow in my pity-party.

I was not practicing vigilance.

I was (am) aware of my propensity to comparison. It’s an area I MUST practice vigilance.

I’ve learned the habit of reviewing the scriptures — almost daily — that speak to me of God’s purposes for me; that speak of my identity; and that speak truth into the lies I’m most susceptible. I need to be vigilant!

Watchfulness, being continually observant of God at work is also necessary. Watchfulness, like vigilance, requires attention; attention focused on God.

Above my computer desk are two framed pictures of my oldest and youngest GRANDS. Jack, now 18, is a three year old in the top picture. He is seeing a rainbow for the very first time. His awe is obvious as he stands un-moving and looking.

The bottom picture is 18 month old Leah. It was snapped in December 4 years ago. She is holding a string of tiny plugged in Christmas lights. She too is awed as she sits un-moving and looking.

Have you ever seen a circular rainbow, a Sundog? Bill and I were in New Mexico on a rare weekend away. As we sat on the patio of the Bed & Breakfast we were visiting, this beautiful phenomena appeared, a Sundog, a first for me.

I was mesmerized. My eyes were open to another of God’s amazing creations. I sat and stared, giving continuous attention, engaging, watchful.

Watchfulness allowed me to receive God’s gift of a Sundog that morning. Watchfulness wows and points to our amazingly creative, caring, loving God.

Vigilance and watchfulness both necessary in growing our relationship with God.

 

Copyright: Sue Tell, February 2025

 

 

 

 

The 19th century tale of Hansel and Gretel tells the story of two impoverished siblings who are cast out into the forest and have the foresight to lay crumbs of bread along the way to mark the path back home. In the original German fairy tale, home was not a safe place, and nor was the forest. The breadcrumbs were eaten by birds and the children ended up almost being eaten themselves. Good comes in the end, though, as the children are reunited with their loving father, and those with ill-intent towards them are vanquished.

In recent years I have oft given thought to the picture of breadcrumbs being left in the forest to mark the way home. Simple provision, serving both as sustenance and guidance. Is this not entirely the way God deals with us? I have thought to myself Giving a morsel for us to consume, that also calls us home, unto him?

Over the last months these thoughts have merged with another story of people in a perilous place being fed and shown the way home. In Numbers we read the story of the people of Israel being led to the Promised Land, and being fed each day by manna, which miraculously appears for them to collect.

This manna has caught my attention.

The people of Israel were fed…but discontent. They wanted to store the manna up so that they didn’t have to collect it each day. They wanted something different, something that seemed tastier to eat.
It’s not difficult for me to imagine myself as a discontent Israelite, not appreciating the significance of what I was being given. Perhaps growing bored. Definitely wanting to fill the store cupboards with provision so that I know I can last a wee while without needing God to provide any more.

But God didn’t give them store cupboards so the they could last a wee while without needing him. No, God used to the daily provision of manna to communicate something profound:

Every day, for the rest of your lives, you need to look to me for everything you need.

It’s uncomfortable to have to live day-to-day, spiritually hand-to-mouth, part of us resists it. And yet this is exactly the way God invites us to live: as baby birds who perpetually open their mouths to be fed.

Recently it has been my resolve to be really delighted with the manna. To choose to look for the provision – in whatever form – and take joy in it.
But sometimes it’s not as easy as that. Sometimes the manna is really hard to spot. There isn’t an aisle in the supermarket that blares out ‘Manna!’. Life is so cluttered. Noisy. Demanding. More often than not the manna can easily be overlooked.

And this is where Hansel and Gretel come in. In the darkness of the forest as they walked, noises, trees and peril all around them, their eyes strained to look for the one thing that would lead them home: the breadcrumbs on the path.

We are Hansel and Gretel, lost and in danger. Our Heavenly Father goes ahead of us in the forest and drops breadcrumbs of manna each day for us to eat and follow. His manna-breadcrumbs cannot be eaten by birds, nor stolen by thieves. We need not question whether they’re there, but we do need to train our eyes to see them.

I have found pausing in the evening to look back over the day invaluable in learning to recognise the manna. Sometimes it’s so hard to see things in the moment, but as we look back we re-remember ordinary events as being embellished with the divine. Sugarcoated with grace. Thankfulness sharpens our vision with a readiness to see.

These breadcrumbs of manna mean that though we face many forests or deserts or valleys, we can never be lost, and never truly be in danger. For we are children of a Good Father, who goes before us. Whose Spirit keeps on highlighting to us the manna of his grace. His provision. His protection. And let us not imagine anything meagre in these manna-breadcrumbs, for they are a feast. When we learn to see them we will find that we cannot help ourselves but see them everywhere. Liberally spread over every aspect of our lives: His love will lead us home.

 

I invite a few close friends over for a grown-up, winter tea party, and before they arrive, I rhythmically move around the table arranging crustless sandwiches, lemon bars, scones, and cream. I set out my beloved Noritake gold rimmed plates, teacups, and saucers — our wedding china. I smile remembering all the times I’ve used this china, and I think about how thankful I am to get to love on my friends and myself by using it once again. The good life is for giving ourselves and others a little attention by enjoying the good things rather than keeping them hidden away. I set out the porcelain tea bag holders and little stirring spoons. I realize I forgot the water goblets and then, out of the blue, I remember that one friend won’t be joining us. Suddenly, uninvited tears show up before the party. It’s silly to be crying, really. I mean, this friend didn’t die. We didn’t have a big fight or a dramatic falling out. Our friendship just changed, unfolded into a new season. And that new season has me a little sad because I just miss her. I stare at the dining room chair at the end of the table and briefly contemplate taping her picture to the seat-back. Or maybe even just leaving one seat empty in her honor? I don’t, of course, because that would be weird. But sometimes we want to give the loss a tangible space to be remembered. After all, loss is the tagalong companion to love, and it’s impossible for loss not to receive attention alongside the love. 2025 is only a week old, and my heart holds sadness for a friendship that doesn’t look the way it used to. For you, maybe there’s a sadness for the same — or from a different kind of relationship that doesn’t look the way you wish. As you gingerly walk into the newness of 2025, perhaps you carry old sadness from the previous year’s friendship heartbreak. If that’s true for you, I humbly offer these five truths to ease the changing seasons of friendships: 1. Give yourself time and room to feel sad. Don’t skip over the sadness. Give yourself permission to mourn the loss for an appropriate amount of time. Let it have its time, but don’t let it boss you into believing that God doesn’t care about you or that Jesus has abandoned you because that will never, ever happen. He is with you always (Matthew 28:20) . 2. Don’t assume there’s something wrong with you. When a friendship or other relationship changes, it’s easy to look inward and think, What did I do wrong? While introspection is necessary in gaining self-awareness and apologies are sometimes in order, odds are good the relational change was more about her than you. Instead of looking inward, look upward and assume that for now, God simply wants your attention elsewhere. Trust God with your reputation as well as this situation (Psalm 135:14). 3. Believe God continues to give His best to you and will withhold no good thing from you. This includes people who are best for you (Psalm 84:11). 4. Pray God’s best for your friend. Whatever the particulars behind the changing friendship, let’s remember to represent Jesus well by letting the situation bring out the best in us, not the worst (Luke 6:27-28). 5. Fervently thank God for the friendships you do have. Even if it’s just one friend, and that friend moved five states away. Or even if that friend is the one preoccupied with a new baby or grandbaby or busy with a new job. Thank God for who is present at your table and in your life (1 Thessalonians 5:18). It takes courage to hold our relationships in upturned palms instead of squeezed in our tight fists. It takes strength to carry yourself with a posture that says, You are welcome to stay here as my friend, but I won’t force it. Some seasons call for staying in a particular friendship. Other seasons call for keeping our distance from someone we’re not called to be in community with—whether that’s our choice or not. In those moments, may we continue to give ourselves a little attention by enjoying the good things — and good people — around us. And may we also see all the ways God gives us gifts that are signs of Love present everywhere.   Kristen, a friend from church is also the compiler of “Praying Through Loneliness”. The following story first appeared in this book. Available at your favorite bookseller.