I am a Christian, a retired teacher, a mother and a grandmother. I love to read and I love the Lord Jesus Christ! Unless otherwise specified ,all visual illustrations are from the YOU VERSION APP of the Bible.
Author: vicklea
I love to read! I’m a retired teacher with a spouse of 45 years, three amazing children and nine wonderful grandchildren. I am blessed!
I know you will find this hard to believe, but I have never run a physical race before. First, there is the whole asthma thing in which walking fast can make me lose my breath and gasp for air even as I reach for my inhaler. Second, I will be totally honest. Even if I could run, I probably wouldn’t because I hate to sweat. If I feel perspiration creeping down my neck or across my forehead, I head to the bathroom to take a shower or at least wash off. I know…strange, right?
But there is a race that I am running, every day. Some days, I think I am making progress and other days, I feel as though I am just standing still, running in place. But, I am still running, still listening to that still small voice that tells me I’m going to make it, to just keep going.
God has a race marked out for us to run and we all need to run it whether we are athletically inclined or not. The stakes are high and the prize is eternal. So how do we get ready for this race?
I have four grandchildren who run cross country. They have informed me repeatedly that you have to run every day to be ready for the race. Sometimes their run is with others at practice and sometimes they are running solo just to keep in shape. Sometimes, we run our race alone and other times, we are with other believers. But we never stop running.
So, for my race, my everyday run consists of spending time with the Lord daily, first thing every morning. I may not feel like it, but my feelings don’t count because God is waiting for me, so off I go to read His word, pray, meditate and spend time with Him. I call that preparing for my race. The race is starting the minute I get up from my chair and start my day.
The phone rings with someone needing something. Do I blow them off, tell them I’m busy (which may actually be true) or do I offer to help however I can? Remembering that this is part of my race, I choose wisely and offer to help. I have to run errands and my husband is still sleeping. Since he and I go on errands together, do I wake him up or let him sleep, knowing he stayed up late watching sports? The little voice inside me that is impatient tells me to wake him up, but I walk away quietly and wake for him to awaken naturally, refreshed by getting enough sleep. Still running that race! I make lunch and spill the soup on the floor as I try to balance it with my walker. I could spew a string of words that are not for polite society. But, instead, I get paper towels and silently clean up my mess. You know what is happening here? Life! Life is what is happening. And as someone once said, life is not what happens to us, it is how we respond to it.
That is our daily race, which some call the “daily grind.” Day after day, things happen and we react or respond, hopefully with God in mind and the Holy Spirit ruling our response, but honestly, that doesn’t always happen and we have to confess, repent, and keep going. Regardless of the events in our lives, we keep running the race. Our eyes have to stay focused on Jesus, not on the events that are happening to us or around us. The world is filled with distractions to try to get us to quit the race and join in their revelry, the sin that has already entangled them and they want us to join them in it. But, we don’t quit! Why not? Because our eyes are on Jesus and He did not give up on us. He didn’t quit but rather went to the cross, suffered and died. That was His race and He ran all the way to being seated next to the Father.
Was Jesus tempted and opposed? Constantly! The Pharisees and other religious leaders were always watching Him, waiting for Him to break their numerous laws and standards. Jesus indeed broke many of their laws and established new ones. He healed on the Sabbath and was condemned for it. He spoke words of truth from His Father and was ridiculed for it. He spoke out for the underdogs, the sinners who were around Him and following Him everywhere. He touched them and allowed them to touch Him. He was running His race and knew what the end would look like for Him, yet still He ran, faithfully and daily. Can we do any less?
Others are watching us, too, hoping that we will “grow weary and lose heart.” They want us to turn away from God so that they can say to themselves and others, “See, I told you this salvation thing isn’t real.” So, we have to keep running, not just for us, but for all who need to see the race and know that our faith is real, our God is real and there is a real heaven (or hell) waiting for everyone.
Thus, I am running my race and I know that you are, too. Your race probably doesn’t look like mine, but it’s the same race, just a different track. Some run through woods with lots of obstacles. Some run uphill a lot and feel as though their body cannot take any more. Others are running in a flat valley with a cool breeze and thanking God for the respite from the hard places that they have just left behind. Just keep running. The end of the race is coming, although we don’t know how or when. We know what is waiting for us at the end, so we just keep running, cheered on by a heavenly host that wants us to finish and finish well.
I think that we can all agree that this toy car is past the ability to put it back together again. I remember when our children were young that they would break a toy and bring it to me to fix. Well, I am not good at those kinds of things, unless it was a wheel that needed to be put back on a car or a head back on a doll. I could sew eyes back on stuffed animals, too, as well as apply bandaids to their “owies” in order that my child was mollified and would continue to accept and play with the toy as it was. In general, my usual reply to the problem of a broken toy was that they needed to find something else to play with because that toy was headed to the trash pile.
I was once like that broken toy. I needed all new parts, a lot of banging dents out and a lot of careful attention to the details so I could work again. That’s when Jesus came into my life.
I am, you are, we all are healed by the Lord Jesus. That is not to say that we don’t have physical ailments. That would be a lie. Our bodies were not made to last forever; rather, they are a temporary abode for our soul that will go to heaven to spend eternity with God. Sometimes, God does heal us physically, but it’s not something that we can “name it and claim it” and it happens. I am thankful that God healed me when I had a stroke, but honestly, I was too unaware of what was happening to really know what He had done until after it was finished. Then, I realized what God had done for me and was thankful and amazed.
I think what I am trying to say is that Jesus healed our brokenness on the cross. He healed the relationship between us and the Father, and that is a healing that is always there for us because that was all part of God’s plan of salvation. But it upsets me sometimes when I see people desperately ill with terminal diseases like cancer and they are not healed of the sickness. Instead, they are generally taken to be with the Lord (if they are Christ believers). I have thought about that long and hard and come to the conclusion that that is the ultimate healing. There is no more pain after that. No, their physical bodies did not survive, but their soul is happily ensconced in heaven with the Lord, which is what we should all be looking forward to.
As I write this, I am having a stomach issue with a lot of pain and bathroom trips to eliminate whatever is making me sick. Would I like to be healed physically in this moment? Of course! It’s no fun becoming good friends with the toilet seat. And I prayed that God would take care of me and help me to get better. But if the instantaneous does not happen, I know that God is still working on the soul part of me to draw me closer to Him in spite to the illness. I don’t want to be like some and get angry with God because I prayed and He didn’t instantly answer. God is not my personal wish granter. He is my Heavenly Father and I trust Him to take care of me, even if it’s through the sickness instead of a miraculous healing. After all, I know what a miracle is. I had a massive stroke and I am still here almost eleven years later. I can walk, talk, eat, sing, smile and enjoy life because I was healed. I have been blessed with enjoying the company of ten grandchildren, after the stroke. I celebrated our fiftieth wedding anniversary, after the stroke. Even my neurologist says I am a walking miracle. Does God care about the little things like a stomach bug? I’m sure He does because I think He cares about everything that happens in our lives. Will He suddenly heal me? Maybe. But the healing of my physical body is not what I seek after. I seek after the spiritual healing, the touch I receive daily from the Lord that inspires my posts online and helps me to understand His Word and to get closer to Him.
God doesn’t want anyone that He loves to continue through life in the shape of that toy car, broken and discarded. He fixes us from the inside out, starting with our hearts. We were all once broken, but now we are “fixed” by the Master Craftsman who created us. He fixed us and continues to do the necessary repairs to make us whole and ready to live with Him forever.
Prayer from the YouVersion, Daily Refresh, 11-08-25
I had not heard this section of scripture called this before, but when I looked it up in my Bible, I found that it is indeed attributed to Agur.
This is a prayer for God to help him not to lie, but it is also a prayer asking for contentment. Notice that he doesn’t want to be impoverished or rich. In our era, the propensity is to want more and more, no matter how much you have. Contentment is fleeting. Agur wants a daily provision so that the doesn’t have too much and then think he doesn’t need the Lord anymore. Nor does he want too little because then he may be tempted to steal which would dishonor God.
Wouldn’t it be great if everyone prayed this prayer and meant it? Instead, we are focused on praying for a better car, a larger house, a bounteous feast for Thanksgiving, etc. All we really need is the food to nourish our body every day and a shelter to live in for protection from the weather. That food is really more than bread though. I think it also means the spiritual food that we need daily in order to continue on the right path with God.
Agur had the idea of contentment long before it was a memory verse from the New Testament. I desire to be content like Agur, not too much or too little, but just enough and exactly what I need for every day. God is in the habit of providing what we need when we ask in faith and according to His will. He may even provide some of our wants, too, but we should be content with having our needs met, don’t you think?
A couple’s gender reveal party turns deadly and everyone is a suspect in this gripping thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of The Overnight Guest.
Is it a boy or a girl? They would die to know…
Madeline and Wes Drake have invited two hundred of their closest friends and family to their sprawling horse ranch for the most anticipated event of the year: a “pistols and pearls” gender reveal party so sensational it is sure to make headlines. But the party descends into chaos when the celebratory explosive misfires, leaving one woman dead and a trail of secrets.
As the aftershocks of the bloody party ripple across the small town, Agent Jamie Saldano is brought on the scene to investigate. Battling his own demons from the past, Saldano unearths a web of deceit spun around the Drakes. The appearance of some unexpected houseguests only deepens the mystery. And as tensions mount, it becomes clear that the explosion wasn’t just an unlucky accident. But who was the target, and why? As the shadow of a killer looms, the happy parents-to-be must unravel the truth before it’s too late.
My Thoughts
My goodness! This book and all of its twists and surprises kept my head spinning and my mind whirling as I anticipated the next unexpected revelation. The story begins with a bang, literally, as a gender reveal party’s explosive plan turns deadly. Madeline and Wes had no idea that their party would end up killing a guest, injuring many more and bring an ATF agent to their doorstep to investigate. Agent Jamie Saldano is not a stranger to the area since he grew up there and it also the place from which his older sister disappeared when they were both still in high school. I really enjoyed the complex plot that involved various characters and their backstories. The author did a masterful job of weaving the whole plot together into a cohesive tapestry by having each character voice their own point of view. There are plenty of characters and plenty of action happening throughout this thought-provoking thriller and all of them kept me guessing. I think my favorite character was Saldano since he was the one who kept his cool and kept investigating in spite of all of the roadblocks and subterfuge. The characters were all relatable although some were hard to like, like Mellie who seemed to be a gold digger with secrets and a hidden agenda. The story is engaging, fast-paced and one not to be missed for those who enjoy thrillers that are expertly crafted and gripping. With an unexpected ending and an addictive story, this book gets five plus stars from me and a warning to be prepared to read all night. Trigger warning: abuse and violence. I voluntarily received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review, and all opinions expressed are my own.
Heather Gudenkauf is the critically acclaimed author of several novels, including the New York Times bestsellers The Weight of Silence, The Overnight Guest and Everyone Is Watching. She lives in Iowa with her husband and children.
“Madeline,” comes Wes’s voice, tinny and faraway-sounding. “Are you okay?”
She is lying flat on her back, the air still hazy with smoke. Is she? Is she okay? The ringing in her ears is fading, and she can hear again. In the distance she can hear sirens. Help is coming. Madeline does a mental scan of her body. Nothing seems broken, but her head is pounding. She touches her hairline, expecting her fingers to come back with blood, but instead they find an egg- sized lump. She tries to remember exactly what happened. Wes pulled the trigger, and the truck exploded. An explosion, that’s what it was. Something had gone wrong with the reveal. The baby. Oh God, is the baby okay? She presses her palms against her belly.
“Madeline, Madeline,” comes Wes’s voice again, this time more insistent. His frantic face comes into view.
“Shhh,” Madeline orders. “Please be quiet.” She needs to lie completely still, has to concentrate so she can feel the baby move. She. The baby is a girl, Madeline thinks, remembering the wisps of pink smoke she saw among the fiery black cloud. Her little girl will kick her in the bladder, one of her favorite moves, any second now. There is nothing. No cartwheels or wiggles. Nothing.
Wes kneels beside her and slips his hand into hers. “Help is coming. Stay put. Don’t move.”
Madeline nods as hot tears roll down her cheeks. “What happened?”
“It must have been the truck,” Wes says. “It must have triggered a bigger explosion.”
“But how?” Madeline asks. “You said it was safe . . . Is anyone hurt?”
“It was. It was supposed to be.” He shakes his head, be- wildered. “I don’t know what happened.”
Madeline struggles into a sitting position and looks around. Charred lumber litters the lawn. The canopy over the dining tables has collapsed and is covered in dancing flames that a handful of guests and waitstaff are trying to smother with what- ever is handy: cowboy hats, table linens, an old horse blanket. Other guests are gathered in small, tight clusters, holding on to one another. Some sit in the grass crying, others stand slack- faced, as if in shock. Through the smoke a rodeo clown appears, his brightly colored clothing now blackened with soot and his makeup running down his sweaty face. The clown is helping the photographer, who is bleeding from the head. But it is the old storage barn that Madeline finds herself fixated on. Huge f lames shoot from the hayloft window and the roof. Someone pulls a hose from one of the horse barns, and suddenly buckets and containers of all sizes appear. Others, including Johanna’s husband, Dalton, are running toward the burning barn and tossing water onto the structure. They know that one wayward spark could ignite the house or, worse, the barns filled with her beloved horses.
“Can you walk?” Wes asks. “We have to get you away from here.”
Madeline nods, and Wes helps her to her feet. She is barefoot. The blast had lifted her in the air and knocked her flip-flops clear off her feet. Madeline, leaning against Wes, winces with each step, the rough ground pricking at the soles of her feet. He leads her to the meadow, a safe distance from the burning barn, but still close enough for her to see what’s happening. Some of Madeline’s earlier numbness is beginning to wear away, and the enormity of what has happened begins to descend.
“Go,” Madeline says, knowing they need as many hands as possible.
Wes shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m not leaving you.” “I’m fine,” she says, but is she? She fell hard, and still the baby hasn’t moved.
Madeline scans the crowd. “Where’s Johanna?” she asks. “Have you seen her?”
“I haven’t,” Wes says. “But I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. Have you seen Dix?”
“No,” Madeline says. The last she saw Dix was just before he handed the microphone to Wes. “Go,” Madeline repeats. “Really, I’m fine. I just have to get my bearings,” she assures him when he turns his gaze to her doubtfully. “Go help, find your brother. And check on the horses.”
“You wait here,” Wes says. “Don’t move from this spot, and I’ll come back and find you.” He squeezes her hand and kisses her cheek before darting away and disappearing into a cloud of black smoke.
Madeline continues to eye the property for any sign of Johanna’s long dark braid, her suede skirt. In the distance the wail of sirens grows closer. Help is coming. The meadow to the left of the house was being used as a makeshift parking lot for the guests’ vehicles. One wayward spark from the fire landing on the stubbled field could set off a chain reaction where upward of a hundred cars and trucks, tanks filled with gasoline and diesel, sit idly.
The air is filled with inky smoke blotting out the face of the mountain and the setting sun. A fire truck pulls through the side yard, crushing Madeline’s lavender and Russian sage, its massive tires carving deep ruts in the soil. Madeline barely notices—it’s what she sees as a group of guests part to let the truck through that causes her breath to lodge in her throat. A woman lies on the ground, her arm thrown over her face, while someone presses a blood-soaked cloth to her abdomen. One by one, Madeline registers the carnage. Someone is doing CPR on Gary Wilson, the president of the bank that holds their mortgage. One of her equestrian students is wandering aimlessly through the smoke, tears running down her face. A fifteen-hundred- pound bull has escaped the rodeo paddock and is trotting toward the mountains. She sees Mellie, the young waitress, running and screaming, fire dancing up the front of her legs. A partygoer tackles her, smothering the flames with his body.
This is bad. So very bad. Madeline fights the urge to vomit. She wants to help. But how? Water, Madeline thinks. She can pass out bottles of water, try and keep the guests calm and reassure them that help is here, that everything is going to be okay. On unsteady feet she moves toward the party barn, where she knows there is plenty of bottled water, but someone grabs her arm. Mia. “Have you seen Sully?” she asks tearfully, her arm hanging at an odd angle. “I can’t find him.”
Madeline shakes her head. “I’ll help look for him,” she promises. “You’re hurt. Sit down.”
Mia shakes her head. “I need Sully,” she says thickly and stumbles away. There are too many injured and not enough emergency personnel.
The fire truck has come to an abrupt stop. Two firefighters are urging those guests who jumped in to try to put out the fire to move away from the blaze. With machinelike efficiency, they unroll the hoses.
Madeline is mesmerized by the flames that roll across the roof of the barn, the dense cloud of smoke, the roar of lumber being eaten by the flames. She moves closer, unnoticed by the firefighters, her face growing pink from the heat. Madeline vaguely becomes aware of more sirens and shouts of “Over here” and “Please help!” More help has arrived. The spray of water hisses and snarls as it strikes flames and wood. The barn turns into a living thing then, twisting and groaning until it collapses in on itself, turning to a big heap of charred lumber with sooty farm equipment peeking out here and there.
With deep appreciation to HTP BOOKS for including me in the Fall 2025 Blog Tour for THE PERFECT HOSTS by Heather Gudenkauf. A wild and enjoyable thrill ride!
The Best Plans (Daily Refresh, YouVersion, 11-06-25)
Jeremiah 29:11 is a popular verse that’s often slapped onto journals, etched into coffee mugs, and printed on t-shirts.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
And God does have a plan for you.
God does want to bless you.
God does want to give you hope and a future.
But, we should also pay attention to the original context …
In this case, God was speaking through the prophet Jeremiah to the people of Judah—people who’d recently been exiled to Babylon for 70 years.
The Jewish people were banished to a foreign land because of their insatiable appetite for sin. In fact, for 23 years Jeremiah had been warning them to stop rebelling against God or prepare to face the consequences.
God is patient, but He is also just.
In other words, the Jews were sent to timeout. And as you can read in the preceding chapters, God made a case against His beloved people …
They’d exploited foreigners, orphans, and widows. They’d denied the rights of the poor. They’d refused to stand up for truth or obey God’s instructions. They’d murdered the innocent and committed adultery. They’d rejoiced in doing evil and their lives were ruled by greed. They’d even built pagan shrines, sacrificing their sons and daughters in the fires. It was a dark time. And yet, somehow, God’s mercy always extends to the darkest places on earth.
That’s why, just a few verses later, God said they could seek Him and find Him, and He would bring them back from captivity (Jeremiah 29:13-14).
That’s why he encouraged them—while in exile—to build houses, plant gardens, get married, have babies, and work for the peace and prosperity of their temporary home (Jeremiah 29:5-7).
He wanted them to know: He hadn’t forgotten them. He still wanted good for them. He still had plans to restore them.
God is serious about sin, but He’s just as passionate about redemption.
Though Jeremiah 29:11 was meant for a specific people at a specific time, God’s heart for the restoration of broken people is generationally timeless.
Even when we feel stuck in the process, God still has a plan.
We can put our trust in the God whose goal is always redemption.
My Thoughts
For many years, I took this verse out of context and applied it to my life personally. Then a good friend online who is also a Bible scholar corrected my assumptions and I stopped referring to this verse as one that points to God’s coming blessings. I appreciate this devotional because it gives the context and the fact that God does have a plan for each of us and that plan is our eternal redemption.
God is not planning to give us big houses, nice cars, and other worldly goods. After all, we cannot take those with us when we depart this life anyway. What He is planning for us is a new heart, one made of flesh and one that yearns to be close to Him. That is our hope and our future. The worldly things that we desire are fleeting. God’s plans for us are forever.
I’m thankful that God did not give up on Judah and He hasn’t given up on us either. As I read through their list of sins, I recognized that there are many that apply to people today. Many don’t stand up for truth because they deny that the Bible is the standard for all truth. They murder the innocent babies and call it “reproductive rights” and they commit adultery and call it “trying out marriage.” When I got to the part about pagan shrines, I almost stopped and said to myself that doesn’t apply. But doesn’t it? People today “worship” at the shrine of Apple, the latest electronic gadgets, a fancy Tesla or any other new and shiny purchase about which they can boast. I think our pagan shrine today is a worship of self and satisfying all of one’s desires, without regard to others who have little or nothing and need help just to eat every day. So, are we wicked? Yes, in every way. But God hasn’t turned His back on us and destroyed us…yet. Repentance is needed. We all need to turn and look to God for His plan of redemption and not for our plan of self-gratification. Nothing we give ourselves on earth is worth giving up eternity with God. Let’s put our hope in Him and count on a future with Him, forever.
A twisty, tender and wise look at how secrets can transform the powerful—and sometimes problematic—bond between mothers and daughters, from #1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery.
When Shannon gets engaged, her beloved mom, Cindy, is the first person she wants to tell—and the last. Cindy’s engaged, too, and has already hinted at a double wedding. The image of a synchronized bouquet toss with her mom fills Shannon with horror. She’ll keep her engagement a secret until Cindy’s I-dos are done.
Victoria has never been proper enough for her mother, Ava, so she stopped trying. She lives on her own terms and amuses herself by pushing Ava’s buttons. Ava loves but doesn’t understand her stuntwoman daughter. When a movie-set mishap brings Victoria home, Ava longs to finally connect.
Chance brings the four women together at a wedding venue, where a shocking secret comes tumbling out. Twenty-four years ago, desperate teenager Cindy chose wealthy Ava to adopt her baby—then changed her mind at the very last second. The loss rocked Ava’s world, leaving her unable to open her heart to the daughter she did adopt, Victoria. As Shannon and Victoria deal with the fallout from the decisions their mothers made, they wrestle with whether who they are is different than who they might have become.
My Thoughts
This novel is contemporary fiction told with heart and humor and hope. There is some romance within the storyline, but the thrust of the plot is all about mother-daughter relationships and friendships. The four main characters are all fascinating and believable as they muddle through the obstacles to establishing good relationships, including trust. The moms in the story are Ava and Cindy. Ava’s adopted daughter is named Victoria, and she is a firecracker who bucks her mom on just about everything. Cindy’s daughter is Shannon and they are very close, perhaps too close as Shannon wants boundaries and her mom wants to be a part of every piece of her life. The conflicts are intriguing and thought-provoking since they encompass the topics of open adoption and helicopter mothering. I really enjoyed how the author moved smoothly from one character to another, letting me know what was going on in the life of each of them before they encountered one another at a wedding venue. The action was already absorbing and fast-paced, but it quickened even more and kept me turning pages as fast as I could so I could find out how the issues would be resolved. This is a brilliantly written and clever character study as well as a commentary on relationships and how to maintain them in a healthy manner. With insight given in a humorous and genuinely helpful way, this book had me thinking even as I chuckled my way through some of the issues of the four ladies. Although the plot is complex with the intertwining of the lives of the women, I never felt lost but instead I was immersed in each of their lives and clearly able to visualize their difficulty. The multiple layers were part of the charm and what kept me so completely engaged in the novel. This book is unforgettable in its clever plot and dynamic characters and is a definite five plus stars for me. It also lends itself to discussions in book groups and even has a set of questions at the end of the book to start those discussions. I voluntarily received a complimentary copy of this book. I was not required to write a positive review, and all opinions expressed are my own.
Contemporary Fiction, Rated PG-13
About the Author
SUSAN MALLERY is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that shape women’s lives―family, friendship, romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations,” and readers seem to agree―40 million copies of her books have sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live. She’s passionate about animal welfare, which shows in the many quirky animal characters she has created. Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband and adorable poodle. Visit her at SusanMallery.com.
Victoria Rogers pressed her good arm to her very bruised, almost broken ribs. “Dad, don’t,” she said, trying to stay as still as possible. “You can’t be funny. It already hurts to breathe. It wasn’t a horse.”
Her father frowned. “I was told you were thrown off a horse.” “I was thrown out of a truck.”
“Then how’d you get the black eyes?”
“The ground was a little bit pissy when I hit it and punched me back.”
There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t hurt. The good news was that now that the medical staff had determined she didn’t have a head injury, they were going to give her drugs to help with the pain. She’d already said she didn’t want any of that weak-ass pill stuff. She wanted a nurse to give her a shot of something that would work instantly and let her rest. Because in addition to the bruised ribs, requisite scrapes and contusions, she had a broken left leg and a sprained wrist. Her previously dislocated shoulder also throbbed, but that was kind of the least of it.
As she lay in her hospital bed, feeling like death on a tortilla, she had the thought that maybe stunt work wasn’t for her. Injuries came with the job, but this was the third time in five years she’d landed in the hospital. The first time she’d messed up, so that was on her, but the other two had just been plain bad luck. The incident with the truck had come about because one of the tires had blown, causing the however many ton vehicle to jump the curb—an action that had sent her flying up and over the side. Gravity, being the bitch it was, had flung her onto the sidewalk. Hence the injuries.
Her father studied her, his brows drawn together in concern. “None of this makes me happy,” he told her.
The incongruous statement nearly made her laugh. She remembered—just in time—that her ribs wouldn’t appreciate the subsequent movement and they would punish her big-time.
“Today isn’t my favorite day either,” she admitted, trying not to groan. “I didn’t wake up with the thought that I should try to get thrown out of the back of a pickup.” Although technically getting thrown out of the truck had been the stunt. Just not when it had happened and without warning or a plan.
“I’m worried,” her father told her.
“I’ll be fine.”
“This time.”
She winced, and not from pain. “Now you sound like Mom.”
Her father, a handsome man only a few months from his sixtieth birthday, brightened. “Thank you, Victoria. That’s such a nice thing to say.”
Given her weakened condition, she let that comment slide. Honestly she didn’t have the strength to deal with it right now, even though she knew her father understood exactly what she’d been saying. He was only pretending to not get it.
“If you’re going to act like that, you should go,” she said, then amended what could be construed as a catty comment into something more kind. Mostly because she only had the emotional energy not to get along with one of her parents, and her mother had already claimed that prize. “Besides, they’ll be bringing my drugs any second. I plan to surrender to sleep, so I’m not going to be very conversational.”
As if to prove her point, one of the nurses walked in with a syringe. “Ready to feel better?” he asked cheerfully.
“Yes, and let me say, you’re my favorite person ever.”
He winked. “I get that all the time.”
He slowly injected whatever the medication was into her IV. Victoria drew in a shallow breath as she waited to feel that first blurring of the edges of the pain. Modern medicine was a miracle she intended to embrace.
The nurse left. Milton took her good hand in his.
“I’ll let you rest,” he told her. “But I’ll be back later tonight.” He squeezed her fingers. “Tomorrow, when you’re released, I’m taking you home.”
Ugh. Victoria knew that her father wasn’t talking about the pretty condo he’d bought her when she’d turned twenty-one. Instead he meant the house where she’d grown up. The one where her mother still resided.
“I don’t need to move back,” she protested, feeling the first telltale easing of the pain. “I have a few bumps and bruises.”
“Along with a broken leg. And what about your ribs? You can barely move without wincing.”
“I have zero pain tolerance. I’m a total wimp.”
He frowned. “You’re tough and stoic. If you’re showing signs of pain, it’s bad. You’ll stay with your mother and me until you’re well enough to be on your own.” He pointed at her. “I mean it, Victoria. You don’t get a vote.”
Her father was rarely stern with her, so his sharp tone warned her he wasn’t kidding. And she knew from twenty-four years of experience that arguing with the man would get her nowhere. Milton didn’t take a stand very often, but when he did, he was the immovable object.
“I wish you loved me less,” she murmured, feeling a little floaty and stumbling over her words. “Okay, I feel drugs. Let me enjoy the experience of breathing without, you know, wanting to die.”
Oh, baby girl. You’ve always been difficult.”
“I know. It’s one of my best qualities.” Her eyes drifted closed. “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you more.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Have you ever faced something unexpected? Maybe it was a good surprise that brought you joy, or a heartbreaking tragedy that deeply affected your life. All of us experience moments in life that we don’t anticipate.
Even though unexpected things will happen, we still make plans and dreams for our lives. We make plans for our future—education, family, community, career, or specific relationships. But we can never fully plan for the unexpected, since we cannot know the future. We don’t even know what might happen in the next few minutes.
We learn in Scripture that God is all-knowing, which means He knows everything that will happen everywhere in the world. He has complete knowledge of every event and action that happens. More than that, He is also sovereign, which means He has ultimate authority and control in this world.
That means that even though we make our own plans, God is ultimately the one who directs our steps. He has the power to change the direction of our lives, to orchestrate details we can’t even fathom, and to guide us into what is best for us.
Take some time to think about the dreams and plans that you have for your life. Have you ever submitted those plans to God in prayer? This doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t make plans for your life, but rather, whatever you plan should not come before God’s plans for your life.
Take a moment to ask God to direct your steps. Ask Him to reveal any desires or plans that aren’t from Him. Submit your plans to God so that you’ll be open to following Him wherever He leads.
My Thoughts
One of the things that I used to say frequently was to not get too wrapped up in your plans because “we make plans and God laughs.” I have since changed my mind and decided that God doesn’t laugh at our plans. Rather, He gently rebukes us if we are headed in the wrong direction and then He turns us around. Sometimes, it feels as though all is going the wrong way, the way we did not plan for at all, but we have to remember that God is always, always in control.
The results of the election are a case in point. Why would God not allow a Christian woman who served honorably in the Marine Corps to be elected governor of Virginia? Why did we end up with someone who claims to be moderate but is actually so far left she is a proponent of making our state California East, with mandates about electric cars, gun control, transgenders and murder (also called abortion)? Why? The simple answer is “I don’t know.” To expound on that answer, I would add, “But God does.” He knows the future and if this election is a way to get our attention back on Him and to call attention to how ungodly we have become, how self-sufficient we are and how independent we want to be from God, then He has my attention, and I hope He has the attention of all of the God-fearing people in our nation. What other state elected to the office of attorney general a man who said he would murder someone and his children? New York City elected a socialist, someone who openly admits he is socialist and, in my opinion, lies about his respect for the Jewish people. So, all of that just points to God’s sovereignty. I never thought that Winsome Sears would be an easy winner. I voted, I prayed and then I left things up to God. Some say that God isn’t involved in politics. I am of the opinion that God is involved in everything in our lives and that includes who leads us.
The best advice in the devotional today was to go ahead and make plans, but then submit them to God. That requires a pause. We can’t make plans and then rush headlong into them, hoping that as we go God will bless them. First, we pause. That means wait for God to tell us is it’s a “go” or a “full stop” or a “not yet.” If we make plans without consulting the Lord, then we are destined for disappointment and/or failure. Yes, God in His love and mercy, allows us to carry out some of our half-baked ideas, but if they are not what is best for us, in that same love and mercy, He allows them to fail so we can turn around and go in the right direction. Our loving Heavenly Father knows what is best for us, but He also knows what is best for others and how our choices will affect them. We are not the only one in the Universe with whom God is concerned, much to our own consternation sometimes. We need to accept the fact that God sees everything, knows everything and our plans are better with His blessing beforehand rather than His reluctant permission afterwards. We may be able to steamroll past human obstacles to our plans, but God is not movable. We can’t steamroll Him or talk Him into things that aren’t good for us or even just choose to ignore Him. One way or another, He will get our attention when He wants it and we may not like the way that happens, especially if we are rebelling against His will for us.
That being said, just remember that God is not waiting to zap you and your plans so that they never come about. He just wants you to submit them to Him. Let Him add to your blueprints and see how much better the end product will be.
Isabella loves to dance and sing, so when she sees auditions posted for the Christmas pageant at church, she dreams of landing the perfect part–the Christmas angel with a sparkling halo, flowing white robe, and her very own wings.
But things don’t go quite as planned. She does get a part. The little drummer . . . girl? Drummers don’t wear sparkling halos, flowing white robes, or wings! Will this be the most disappointing Christmas ever?
Filled with witty rhymes and whimsical illustrations, The Little Drummer Girl helps children ages 3 to 5 understand how an awful day can turn into the greatest day of all. This unique telling of the Christmas story from the perspective of a little girl delivers an entertaining message of hope, humor, and the power of God’s love, as shown through his gift of Jesus–not just at Christmas but every day. (Book information from Barnes and Noble)
My Thoughts
This is a sweet Christmas story with a theme of hope and adapting your dreams to what God has planned instead of what you had planned. When Isabella tries out for the Christmas play, she only practices for one part. She wants to be an angel, so she puts her heart and soul into memorizing what she has to do for that part. But when the roles are announced, Isabella is not an angel but a drummer girl. This was not the role she planned for, the one she wanted with all of her heart. The story teaches us all a lesson about how to see the good in things when our plans have to change. It also teaches us about the true meaning of Christmas and even has family support and love in the tale. Good story for children ages 3-5, but I think the older children will enjoy reading it to their siblings and can also learn from the story’s timeless lessons. This wonderful story will make a great gift for the precious child in your life. I read the ARC to my grandchildren and they really got into the story and enjoyed discussing it afterwards and what they could learn from it. Valuable lessons in a well-crafted and beautifully illustrated story! I voluntarily received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review, and all opinions expressed are my own.
Rated G, Christian Children’s Fiction
About the Author
Originally from Scotland, Sheila Walsh is an author, Bible teacher, and television host. She has spoken around the world to over six million people and now hosts numerous shows on TBN, America’s most-watched faith and family channel, including the flagship show, Praise, and the talk show, Better Together, reaching a potential daily audience of 2 billion people through TV and the TBN app.
A three-time Grammy-nominated recording artist, Sheila has recorded over twenty-five albums.
Sheila loves making the Bible practical and sharing how God met her at her lowest point and helped her to rise up again.
Her message: God is faithful, and He is holding you!
She and her husband, Barry, live in Texas with their crazy little dog, Maggie. Their son, Christian, is a clinical psychologist. For more information, go to her website https://sheilawalsh.com/
I want you to notice a very important word that begins this verse, the conjunction “when.” The verse doesn’t say “if” but “when.” God knows that we will be afraid at some time in our lives and David encouraged us in this Psalm to put our trust in God when it happens. I liked what my devotional on the YouVersion told me this morning. Instead of letting fear become a master in your life, let it be a messenger to remind you to run to God.
Have you ever been really afraid? Since I spent a lot of time alone with my husband deployed, I was afraid a lot. Afraid of new places, afraid of being alone at night in a brand new home, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to handle taking care of the kids by myself. God addressed my fears by always, always, always being there for me. I think my greatest fear was when I had a stroke and was on my way to the hospital, strapped to a gurney in an ambulance with the paramedics talking to me and inserting various needles and other medical devices on me and in me. My husband wasn’t with me because the nurse hadn’t been able to contact him yet. So, I was afraid. I couldn’t move or speak, but I could pray. I couldn’t say words, but I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit praying for me and with me. In fact, one of the paramedics noticed my lips moving but no sounds were coming out and he told the other one that he thought I was praying. He was right! I was afraid and God knew it and was right there.
We can panic when we are afraid and try to distract ourselves with other activities or in ways that are not good for us. Or we can run to our Heavenly Father, knowing that He is right there and He is trustworthy. Let Him speak words of comfort and love when you are afraid. I know it sounds other-worldly to say that, but I have experienced God’s presence and His words of assurance more times than I can remember. That’s why I can tell you that He is real, He is concerned about you and your fears. He doesn’t say that He requires that we be fearless. Rather, He says WHEN we are afraid, we can put our trust in Him, the only one who is always there for us, who never leaves us and who knows what is best for us.
Vickie's Book Nook and Meditation Corner 