No More Airplane Mode

There's nothing like taking time to just disconnect from the outside world and enjoy family and nature. And that's exactly what I did this weekend. Bliss.

On one of our hikes up the mountain, Kiera and I decided to do some cross-country hiking to a little lake across the mountain bowl. Mom and Dad stayed behind and watched us from the mountainside since Dad's still recovering from his broken ankle.

As we made our way down the rocky slope and into the first of several valleys, we strove to keep our eyes on our goal, but as we dipped further and further, it became harder and harder. Soon we were just heading in what we thought was the right direction.

We continued on our very undulated trek and finally climbed the last knoll to find that we were quite significantly above the targeted lake. Although no harm was done, we did lose a chunk of time descending to the pristine little lake.

When we finally returned back to the mountain where our parents were waiting, I realized that Mom had been trying to text me when she noticed from her eagle eye perch that we were cutting up too high. I, however, had put my phone on airplane mode to save battery, and thus didn't see her messages. Because I didn't have my phone connected, I was unable to receive her guidance even though she desperately wanted to give it to me.

As I was reflecting upon the whole adventure later, it struck me that God must feel the same way. Here we are, down on this little earth. We don't have great perspective on our journey. Yet God can see everything from the end to the beginning, and sometimes He sees us cutting a little too high, or a little too low. And it pains Him because He so desperately wants to guide us.


God wants to save us time and possible misfortune, but unfortunately, the majority of the time we tend to have turned our "phones" off during the day and don't maintain the full-bar connection that we should. We don't memorize the Bible so that God can send us "texts" throughout the day by bringing scripture to mind. We don't put a high enough value on receiving minute-by-minute updates and counsel from our Ultimate Guide.

I have been challenged to rethink about how I go through my day. I need less time connected to my phone, and more time connected to my Maker. No airplane mode with Him. I want to keep in full service today!

Perspective.

It's all how you see it.

And I'm realizing that lately I've been looking from the wrong perspective. 

It's easy to get stressed or frustrated or discouraged when all you see is the here and now.
When schoolbooks and assignments pile high and additional responsibilities add to the mountain.
When it seems like you are just barely making it from one day to another, one week to the next. 

But last night in the quiet of the evening I saw a glimpse of hurting hearts, pleading eyes, thankful smiles.
And I was reminded why I'm here and why I'm doing what I am.

Perspective changes everything.

Asian Aid: Giving Hope Today (video)

Blessed and Broken

In contemplating gratitude I am reminded of a story, actually two stories. Stories that have been the theme of my year…

It's bread He holds in His hands as He lifts eyes to heaven on the crowded hillside surrounded by 20,000 people or in the upper room with His special twelve. This bread, this life, this miracle waiting to happen…

After He blesses, He breaks. Because brokenness without blessing makes men destitute and hearts grow cold.

The blessing always comes before the breaking. 

Yet brokenness is not the end of the story.
Blessed bread is broken and given away. And it's in the giving that it's multiplied. 

Healing comes through brokenness.

The promise grows to meet our need. Whether twelve or twenty thousand.
Miracles happen. Bread is multiplied. Hearts are fed. But only through torn pieces.

--

I’m blessed and broken, as a token, of a love I can’t deny. 

I’m torn in pieces, by my Jesus, the only way to beautify. 

Though the pain be bittersweet, This transformation He will complete.

I’m blessed and broken, for only brokenness can heal.

© Glesni Mason, 2013

The Thankful One

Dust billows and rises under tired feet to meet fading day. On the horizon silhouettes form the welcoming outline of a small town where thirteen weary travelers anticipate spending the night. Gathering fatigue slows the pace of some, quickens others. All is silence besides the gentle crunch of footsteps.

Suddenly a gasp escapes the lips of one in the group as ten shadowy figures approach the travelers.
They are untouchables. They are the lowest of the low. They are lepers.

I can feel the tension, the awkwardness of the moment.

"What audacity!" one disciple whispers to the other.
"The nerve of them! Don't they realize that this is prohibited by law?"

Audacity indeed.
And Someone recognizes it.

Ten men cry for mercy from One who men say is the Mercy-Giver.
Jesus commands them to go. And they go.

Following the running men at a relaxed pace, the group of disciples and their Master continue on.
The gates of the village are not far now. Warmth and nourishment are imminent.

Yet silence is abruptly interrupted again as a man rushes excitedly toward them.
It's one of the lepers with tears flowing freely down glistening cheeks. He has something to say.

"Thank you, Jesus… 
       …thank you, thank you, thank you."

In his delirious euphoria he can say nothing more. But that doesn't matter. 
This Samaritan has grasped what Christ has been vainly trying to teach the Jews for months.

Gratitude is a lifestyle.

One man was thankful and soon his testimony converted hundreds.
Because his thanksgiving was not a one time event, but a way of life.

And I wonder what kind of thanksgiving I have…
Am I living a life of gratitude?