Monday, August 25, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
Invited Into Healing Prayer
By Allison Bollegar
Whether
through heartfelt cries or written liturgical prayers, humans have
yearned for healing and God's kingdom since long before Jesus arrived in
the flesh. Jesus carried on the tradition of prayer and encouraged
prayers for healing as a way to let people know that the kingdom of God
was with them (Luke 10:9). Works done in Jesus' name continue to testify
to the kingdom of God being with us today.
In
Luke 10:1-10 we are invited into the kingdom-work of Jesus, into
healing prayer. Jesus appointed 70 disciples in addition to the 12 and
he said to pray for even more laborers. We are the answered prayers of
our early brothers and sisters in Christ. We are laborers for and in the
kingdom of God. By bringing love and peace, by healing the sick, and by
testifying that the kingdom of God is near, we continue the ministry
Jesus started. We share the same Holy Spirit that was given to God's
people at Pentecost and we rejoice in the promises of Jesus.
![]() |
|
For more on prayer click here!
|
Love
is the distinctive of Jesus' disciples. He reminds his followers of the
importance of love in John 13:34-35: "A new command I give you: Love
one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this
everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
All of the prayers that we offer and works that we perform for the sake
of God's kingdom are nothing if we don't love those we serve.
An
emphasis on the kingdom work of prayer and a focus on love for God's
people offers a starting point for prayer. Differences among people of
prayer provide an opportunity for us to learn how to love, pray, and
labor with people who are seeking God's kingdom but may have different
expressions of prayer than us. The kingdom of God is here!
Allison Bollegar is the founder and executive director of Grace and Gift Ministries, www.graceandgift.org.
She is currently working on a double master's degree at the Iliff
School of Theology and at the University of Denver. Her healing ministry
and educational pursuits in psychology, social work, and divinity
provide hands-on ministry experience as well as vision development.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Slow Growth and Puny Tomatoes
By Tracey Bianchi
I've
always wanted the title of "expert gardener." Wielding a green thumb,
plunging my hands into the earth, kvetching with others about compost or
pruning. Standing at day's end with dirt on
my forehead, hands on my hips, looking skyward to wonder when it might
rain again. I imagine a crop of exotic vegetables and a mesclun salad
that could land on the cover of Real Simple.
![]() |
| Check out "The Work of our Hands" from our issue Stuck! |
Reality- in mid-June I hastily snatched up the remaining four tomato plants from our farmer's
market knowing that real gardeners planted weeks ago. The hold out
plants were slightly yellow, wilted, gasping for water in dusty, leached
soil. It was all they had left. I dropped them into the ground, hoping
for salad options by the weekend. It's now
August and the plants are still wilted. Bright yellow blossoms seem
reluctant to turn into fruit and my husband keeps asking, "So are we going to have enough for salsa?"If only they would grow faster.
Metaphors of growth and farmer's
fields dot our Scriptures revealing the fact that good growth takes
time. Last summer we removed a dying, 70 year old Ash tree from our
front yard. It took decades to mature and stretch out limbs. I'll be dead before another tree envelops this home in its shady fold.
Spiritual
growth takes more time than we want to give. We are sold lies that we
should be able to ramp up the perfect prayer life, let go of grief, or
kick an addiction in a few small steps. Most of us who have even dabbled
in the Scriptures know that Jesus never ever, ever never suggests a
fast-track to the fruit of the Spirit and yet, we still seek quick
results.
Reality-can't
show up a month late with drab little plants and expect prize winning
crops. Instead, I have a few measly tomatoes all the while wishing for
the crimson, juicy fruit my neighbor has across the street. The four
plants didn't fail but they didn't thrive either. But next year? Next
year I will pick lush, verdant plants in the early season and plant them
on time. Next year, the tomatoes will really come in.
What
if next year a drought or insect attacks my little plot and I am left
aching again, replanting and waiting yet again. And on it goes. Is it
any wonder that Paul lists patience as a fruit of the Spirit in
Galatians 5?
So
as these tangible summer days give way to the tumbling leaves of fall,
may you embrace the long, arduous journey of spiritual growth. May you
wake every morning longing for a new lesson rather than new fruit. And
may the fruit of your labor eventually lead you to the arms of the Good
Farmer Himself.
![]() |
|
More from Tracey Bianchi here!
|
Tracey
Bianchi is the Worship and Teaching Pastor at Christ Church of Oak
Brook, a congregation of 3000+ in the Chicago area. She (along with
Adele Calhoun) is a co-author of the forthcoming book True You: Moving Beyond Self-Doubt and Using Your Voice (InterVarsity Press, January 2015). traceybianchi.com
Monday, July 28, 2014
The Gift of Telling the Truth
Dorothy Littell Greco
I
have struggled to consistently tell the truth for most of my life.
While my lies rarely impacted others and were certainly not of the
magnitude of Pinocchio's or Charles Ponzi's, they were, none-the-less,
untruths. According to Pamela Meyers in a recent TED talk, "We are
deeply ambivalent about telling the truth."
![]() |
|
Register today for our August webinar "Healing Prayer" with Lindsay Waymire and Allison Bollegar.
|
Though
I did not realize this until fairly recently, my ambivalence was
connected to my fear and shame. I lied because I wanted to be liked and
accepted by everyone. I did not lie about my achievements or status. I
lied when I was angry or had feelings that might be perceived as
threatening or negative. When my boss asked if things were going well, I
lied because I feared that if I admitted how much I hated his
misogynistic comments, I might lose my job. When my husband asked how
much I paid for my new outfit, I slashed $10 off the price because I was
afraid if he knew how much I actually paid, he would be unhappy with
me. Bottom line? I valued being liked and accepted more than pleasing
God.
Ninety-nine
percent of the time, no one ever noticed my deceitfulness. No one
except God. As the Holy Spirit gently convicted me, I began to notice
how often Scripture mentions God's disdain for lying. Until this point, I
actually thought my lies were inconsequential. After all, I wasn't
lying about my tax returns or infidelity. I had conveniently created a
gradation of truth telling, rather than seeing it as a choice between
two polar opposites. We either are telling the truth or we're not. In
God's economy, white lies are still lies.
![]() |
|
A perfect Summer read! Check out our "Relish" issue!
|
My
two greatest desires in life are to love well and to be transformed
into the image of Jesus Christ. Since Satan is the father of lies (John
8:44) and God never lies (Titus 1:2), I needed to choose sides. I began
to confess to my husband or close friends whenever I misspoke, no matter
how trivial. After about a year of this humiliating behavior, I noticed
that my fear and shame were losing their grip. Lies no longer
unreflectively rolled off my tongue. Obedience began to trump my desire
for popularity. I still fight to speak honestly when I know the truth
might create waves. However, knowing the ultimate truth - Christ - has
indeed set me free.
Dorothy Littell Greco photographs beautiful things, writes about relationships and following Jesus in a sometimes confusing world. You can find more of her words and images on her site (www.dorothygreco.com) or by following her on FB (https://www.facebook.com/DorothyGrecoPhotography) and Twitter (@dorothygreco).
Monday, July 21, 2014
Love in Action
By Karen Schelhaas
It's
a balmy 102 degrees in Juarez, Mexico this time of year, and the
contrast to our home in Colorado is stark. Roads are foot-thick layers
of dust and the homes dotting the landscape are colorful mosaics of
scrap metal, cardboard, wood, and plastic. The only green splashes are a
few sparse vegetables that hard-working families have had the vision to
plant and nurture, adding color to their plates of rice and beans and
tortillas.
I'm
no expert on short-term missions trips. I know for sure that no one
transforms an entire community in a few short days, and it quickly
becomes clear that there's far more to learn than to teach or
contribute. Our family of seven, including our five children ages 8-16,
drove 10 hours straight south of Denver, and crossed the border in New
Mexico.
![]() |
|
Check out "How I Learned I Could Change the World" from our Nice Girls issue.
|
We brought a truckload of donated diapers and formula, the 43rd
such load commissioned by my friend Quinn after she started Babies of
Juarez. Pastors of local churches then distribute the gifts as needed,
combining the spiritual with the physical. Quinn's vision was a visceral
response to the excruciating 6-month waiting period during which
families in Juarez choose not to name their babies due to lack of good
nutrition. I got to hold a chubby one-month old boy during a food
outreach we provided for the community, and when I asked his mother his
name, she shook her finger at me and said quietly "no nombre, no
nombre". Slowly but surely, though, Quinn's tireless efforts are kicking
that miserable 6 months to the curb, hoping it will exist solely as a
cultural norm rather than a necessary evil, and there's evidence to
support the growing shift. Chubby babies bring joy, no matter where you
live.
We
also worked alongside a family building their home, viewing their
long-prayed-over dreams slowly emerging out of the dirt and taking
shape, a monument of sorts. We watched our teenager hang drywall and
install windows while we helped our younger children bang nails in to
the roof, covered in splotches of gooey tar and robin's egg blue paint.
In the end, there were giant, beautiful words the father voiced at the
house dedication, eyes moist and lips quivering as the keys dropped in
to his hands. "Thank you to our great God, for He is a God who hears
us," he said. Indeed. The family's house got built with boards and
nails, but my guess is that as they lovingly turn it in to a home in the
months ahead, they'll remember it being stitched together with a lot of
joy, laughter, and answered prayers.
The
whole trip was an effort to move toward people in love because God
first loved us, which, to me, is the essence of missions. Playing soccer
on a dusty road in scorching heat with dozens of local kids, holding a
baby we hope will live more than 6 month, tears shed by thankful parents
at the house dedication, and the dozens of caricatures my husband drew,
morphing gorgeous people into funny keepsake cartoons - all of it has
our kids begging to go back, the togetherness etched deeply in their
bones.
![]() |
|
More from Karen Schelhaas here!
|
Karen
Booker Schelhaas lives in Highlands Ranch, CO with her husband and five
children ranging from ages 8 to 16. When she's not teaching, cooking,
jogging, cleaning, gardening, entertaining, chauffeuring, volunteering
or counseling, she can be found at her kitchen table with coffee in her
veins, slowly putting her stories into words.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Safe Haven
By Melodi Leih
I watched a small bird from the couch in my living room. I was captivated by it over several days. I have no idea what kind of bird it was but it was quite small. I saw it repeatedly fly from the wooded area in our yard to the fence post outside my window. I was in awe of how this little bird carried such large twigs, moss and other foliage from one place to the next. I wasn't sure why it kept coming to the same spot on the fence until I discovered where it had built its nest. It had meticulously placed twig after twig, branch after branch in the wreath on my front door.
Like many moms I know, this bird took her time creating an environment where her little ones were protected and could thrive. On occasion I saw a few other birds appear to be watching as she created this safe haven. It reminded me of moms I have seen critique other moms on their mothering or how they keep their home.
As I watched this little mommy bird I thought of the many times as a mentor I have been able to add to the environment moms around me are creating. The interesting thing I discovered is it really hasn't required much of me except my time. Being present is what they have needed. Being there to listen, pray, share coffee or an encouraging word has been enough for the women in my small circle to continue to gather what's needed for the safe haven they are creating for their families.
![]() |
| Have you read our issue Influence? |
One of the most impactful gifts I have received was the gift of time. It was a gift I had not asked for nor did I realize I desperately needed. However, that gift has helped me learn to be more mindful and invested in others. Whether you formally mentor or just invest in other women in your life, it is simple to live out this gift. Recently I sent hand written notes to some women and the impact from this small act was more than I could have imagined. Other ways to invest time might be sharing wisdom from scripture or inviting a few women in for coffee and Bible study. Helping with practical needs such as child care for mom friends is another way to invest in healthy families.
What I have learned from the little bird out my window is women work hard to protect, provide, nourish and love those in their nest. They also need a place to stop and rest to be able to continue that work. You can be a place of rest for women by investing and being present in their lives.
Melodi Leih is a MOPS Mentor at Hermitage Hills Baptist Church in Hermitage, TN and Regional Developer for MOPS International. She is married to Mike and has 3 beautiful children and an amazing son-in-law. She enjoys music, reading and time with her family.
|
There is still time to register for our August webinar on "Healing Prayer"? Register today!
|
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Knit Two, Pray Two
By Tracey Solomon
Dipping the knitting needle into the next stitch, I wrap the yarn and pull it through. As I do, the beautiful lavender, silk yarn glides through my fingers. Wrapping for the next stitch, I whisper prayers for the future wearer of this offering of yarn, handwork and love. "Lord, bring comfort in these stitches." "Lord, let these stitches be a reminder of your love and mine for the wearer."
I dip the needle into the next stitch and continue knitting and praying.
I'd love to say this practice was inspired by a Victorian era women's devotional practice I'm trying to revive. Or, that it came to me by divine inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Or even that I read about it in a book. I didn't. I'd like to because they sound better (and holier) than the truth ...
Prayerful knitting happened by accident one day, when I was multi-tasking. A friend was struggling through something and I decided to knit her a "hug." I wanted to make something tangible to remind her of my love, and God's. I prayed for her between the stitches.
Which is when I discovered that knitting helps me both focus and stay awake while praying!
See, I have a problem with sitting still and focusing on prayer. When I try to sit still and focus, one of two things usually happen:
a) I get distracted (Oh look! A squirrel) and forget I am praying . Which is like putting Jesus on hold and forgetting him. Nice.
b) I fall asleep. Which is not the same as resting in Jesus. Trust me. I'm not resting. I'm asleep. As in drool may be involved and I could possibly snore. Snoring is not a prayer language. Just saying.
|
Have you registered for our August webinar on "Healing Prayer"? Register today!
|
So for me, prayer is not just a spiritual battle, it's a battle between distraction and exhaustion. Maybe, I have "prayer-colepsy" or "PrayDD." Whatever you call it, I'm glad I've discovered that if I pray while I'm doing something. That way I can stay both focused and awake.
So I pray when I'm knitting. And while folding laundry, and sometimes in the shower. I rarely fall asleep in there.
Knit two, Pray two.
It works for me.
What about you? What works for you when it comes to prayer? Do you have struggles with prayer? What does your prayer time look like? I can't wait to hear!
Tracey is married to her high school sweetheart, Kyle. They have 3 sons. Tracey serves on the Board of Directors at MOPS International and has a background in pastoral counseling. She loves to knit and is passionate about reaching, connecting with and learning from that "other woman," the one who's different from her. She writes about it on her blog, A Mile in Her Shoes, at www.traceysolomon.com.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)










