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The eyes of
the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry.
Psalm 34:15
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Elizabeth writes a weekly devotional that can be delivered to your inbox. To view a sample, click here!
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 Footprints in History |
Florence Nightingale (1820-1910)
What if you were seventeen and suddenly realized your
family income was only slightly less than that of the queen of England? What if
you were highly educated, spoke several languages and traveled extensively, but
were restricted from using your brain for anything other than stimulating
dinner conversation? And, what if you were certain that God had called you into
"service" but He hadn't given you a clue about what that service would be?
Florence Nightingale was in that position and she hated it!
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My Path |
Two Languages, Two Worlds
It
was mid-afternoon and the place was nearly empty when I came through the door hoping to
sit a moment with a new book and treat myself to a Dairy Queen hamburger. The sky outside was
threatening rain and this seemed the perfect stop before traveling the final miles home.
I placed my order,
selected a booth near the door and cracked open my new purchase delighting in the fresh smell of printer's ink. It was then that a young man, maybe fourteen, slipped into
the adjacent booth facing me. He had a friendly face and the teen swagger of
one trying to appear more sophisticated than his years. I really didn't want to
be disturbed but he asked, "You reading a Bible?"
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Modern Footprints |
The Direction Home
My
wife often jokes about my poor sense of direction and I understand why. I'm not
what you would call a navigator. She knows it. God even knows it. And, I think
at last I am beginning to know it, too. But it took a hard lesson to teach me.
One that could have cost me my life.
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The Reason We Speak
 Elizabeth and 31 other professional Christian speakers join with Marybeth Whalen in this practical guide to the ministry of public speaking. Has God called you to be a Christian Speaker? Are you interested in learning more from professionals who are willing to share their wisdom and experience? As you read the advice from contributors and work through the included Bible study, you will discover the blessing of following God's call on your life, and find the courage to go wherever He directs. To purchase, click here. Mary Beth Whalen is the wife of Curt and mom of six children. A member of Proverbs 31 Ministries, she speaks regularly and enjoys sharing stories from her daily adventures as wife, mom, homeschooler, writer, and most importantly, a follow of God. You can find her online at www.marybethwhalen.com Elizabeth's Itinerary
Do you live in the Little Rock, Arkansas area? Elizabeth will be giving the workshop, How To Hang Loose in an Uptight World, in Morrilton on Thursday morning, February 18th and would love to make arrangements meet you.
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Footprints in History, continued
Gentlewomen of Flo's time lived under very strict
expectations. She must be proficient at light piano, but never play serious
works such as Beethoven. She could study math and geometry at home, but college
was forbidden. She was expected to tour Europe, but could not so much as visit her
grandmother unescorted. Where does a call to God's service fit in such a life?
Three years passed. Flo was twenty and trapped in an
endless round of social calls and balls and entertainment. Bored beyond
endurance she poured her frustrations out in prayer. Still, God did not answer.
She was certain her call had not been a dream or hallucination, but God was
silent while her family scripted her life to the last detail. The only time she
seemed free to express her will was when she refused to marry.
By age twenty-five she would write: "I can do without
marriage, or any of the things that people sigh after. My imagination is so
filled with the misery of the world that the only thing worth trouble seems to
me to be helping or sympathizing there. When I am driving about town, all the
faces I see seem to me either anxious or depressed or diseased, and my soul
flings itself forth to meet them."
Her words indicate Flo was slowly coming to realize that
her "call" had something to do with relieving the sick and suffering around her,
but social standing held her fast and how she would ever break the cycle was a
mystery. The one time she expressed a desire to learn something about medicine
and possibly become a nurse, her mother was so humiliated she cried for weeks
and her sister was sure their social standing was damaged forever.
Flo's first opportunity came in 1853 when she was 33---16 years
after she felt God calling her. A group of aristocratic ladies asked her to
create a medical facility, "for the care of sick Gentlewomen."
At first she refused unless both Catholic and Protestant
women could be equally treated; but when that demand was reluctantly met, she
was at last able to use her extensive organizational skills and self-taught
medical knowledge. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.
It would take another four years and England's
involvement with a losing war before the door to her social cage sprang fully open.
After twenty years she could at last function within the call God had placed on
her life.
My Path, continued
"No." I held up the
book so he could see the front while he tilted his head as though studying. "The
book is, I Don't Have Enough Faith to Be
an Atheist" I explained. "The
author is an apologist."
His blank look told
me that the youth had no idea what at apologist might be. I had used the word
on purpose hoping he would ask a question or become curious, but when there was no
reply I offered, "An apologist is a person who gives reasons for why they believe
as they do. Geisler is a Christian apologist."
My words held no meaning. "I go to a Baptist church myself," he said with
authority.
"So, you are a Christian?'
"Sure. But, I don't
believe in all that religion stuff. I just try to be nice." Then, as though
'being nice' might indicate something soft or sissy he squared his small
shoulders and said, "But, I don't always make it 'cause there's nuthin' much
too tough for me."
I prayed, "Lord, what would You have me say?" I
was totally unprepared to switch mental gears from Geisler's philosophical
arguments to teen-talk. I stammered a few words about the difference
between "being nice" and "being a Christian" yet I could tell by his glazed
expression and disjointed answers that I was totally missing the mark.
That saddened me
for the youth obviously wanted to talk. The burger joint was empty and we had
opportunity, but the distance between us grew wider every time either of us
opened our mouth. He was intent on showing that he was tough and world-wise
while I kept stumbling over words and searching for an approach to the gospel
that might connect with his world.
After
twenty minuets of burger and fruitless conversation, Colossians 4:6
came to mind and I winced. Paul instructed us to "know how to answer
each one."
(NKJV) and those last two words that convicted me; each one. If the Lord had sat me down by a scholar, I could have
held my own. Had I stumbled across a well-educated atheist, no problem. But, a
clueless teen? I stammered like a third grader reciting their first poem before
the class.
As I left the
restaurant I tossed him an ice cream sandwich. "I'll pray and ask the
Lord that
you and your bike get home safe before the storm." Then, I stepped
outside, looked at the threatening sky and continued, "God, not just
this storm, but the storms
of life and those of eternity as well." The mist was turning to
droplets. "Oh, yes, also direct
someone across his path who is better than me at speaking 'teen'."
If you have a comment, click here. I would love to hear from you!
Modern Footprints
It
was 1982, I was a hedonistic bachelor. I owned a muscle car; enjoyed a well
paying job and had secured a two-story condo for myself in Fox Lake, Illinois.
I liked being a rep for Pepperidge Farm and servicing stores in the Chicago
area but my lifestyle showed that I was years away from meeting my wise wife
and finding my purpose in Christ.
Although
I partied all night, I was faithfully up at cock's crow to service my route.
After stopping at the convenience store for a large coffee, it was on to my
boss' home where I checked in new inventory and loaded what I needed to fill
orders for the day. Then, boarding the company step van, me and my coffee would
be off to our first stop. It was monotonous work, but I only had to put in four
days each week and I loved the solitude. The job made me feel self-reliant even
though it was not glamorous. I got a nice, fat check every Friday which fed my
beast of a car-- a big-block Gran Torino --and kept me and my girlfriends in
watered down drinks.
It
was late one October afternoon. I had just finished work and was ready to head
back to my apartment but my car, which had sat waiting all day in the boss'
driveway, wouldn't start. There was no one at his house who could give me a
ride or help jump-start the Torino, so after a few more tries, I gave up. I
locked my baby and began hoofing it toward home.
I
remembered my boss had once pointed out to me where my place was from his. We
were only a couple of miles apart and separated by a forest preserve. It didn't
look that far and he told me it was a pretty straight shot across, so I figured
I'd just trudge through the woods and call him later on when I got home. A
shortcut would be faster than taking all those safe, well marked roads. I'd be
home in no time. I slipped under the barbed wire fence surrounding the
preserve, taking care not to snag my Members Only jacket, and aimed myself in
the direction of home.
It
was easy going at first, mostly fields of dead grass and weeds that crunched underfoot
and hissed as they brushed my pant leg. I saw the trees thickening ahead, but
it didn't look impassible. I wasn't worried. I could handle things on my own.
After
about a half-hour the ground was getting soft and marshy. The sun was starting
to wane and the temperature was dropping. No problem. I'd be home long before
freezing. At least, I hoped.
I
thought the wall of trees was the only barrier between me and my condo complex,
but the earth soon turned muddy. A few more steps and my feet were immersed in
cold brackish water. I backed out a bit. It was still okay. I could circumvent
the swampy area. I'd go around it on dry land then reorient myself and continue
forward.
I
tried this for a while, and then I came across my own footprints in the mud. Self-confidence
fragmented into fear as I realized I had traveled in a circle. It was getting
dark. And cold. I was lost.
Panic
began to rise in my throat. I wasn't dressed for the weather and I knew I could
be in real danger of hypothermia. My feet were already numb. It was becoming
hard to see. There was no choice; I had to get moving again.
This
time I trudged forward directly into the water. I didn't care how wet and cold
I got. I had to get home. The mud sucked my shoes down with every step as I
wound my way through trees, trying to stay in a straight line.
Going
forward was unbelievably hard. I was tired and felt I had to stop. I was
scared. I screamed for help, but the air itself seemed to swallow my cries.
Finally,
stuffing down my pride and shivering with cold, I turned to the only help that
has never failed. "God, please get me out of here. I can't find the way by
myself. Don't let me die."
There
was no response; only the eerie quiet hanging all around me.
It
was then that I noticed something new; something that I had not seen before.
Lights! Small and distant, they were no more than specks, but I aimed toward
them like they were the Christmas star over Bethlehem. Fighting my way through
dead trees and brush, I ended up at the fence behind the condos. I was home!
Many
years have come and gone since that cold, dark night. I've slowly learned that
I must always lean on God for direction; not just in times of crisis. I need
Him to help me navigate through a chaotic life. He holds the map.
My
lesson was hard learned, but now I'm depending on Him to get me home.
By:
Tracy
Lesch
Tracy is a Graphics Designer and Freelance Writer from Central Florida. You can contact him at tlesch@cfl.rr.com.
Back to Modern Footprints
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