Several times throughout their flight, they believe they are being pursued by lions. They are – but only by ONE Lion, Aslan, the King of Kings. At one point, He charges Aravis, leaping at her as she tries to outrun him.

…the lion rose on its hind legs, larger than you would have believed a lion could be, and jabbed at Aravis with its right paw. Shasta could see all the terrible claws extended. Aravis screamed and reeled in the saddle. The lion was tearing her shoulders.

Later in the story, Aravis’ stripes are explained.

“Draw near, Aravis my daughter. See! My paws are velveted. You will not be torn this time.”

“This time, sir?” said Aravis.

“It was I who wounded you,” said Aslan. “I am the only lion you met in all your journeyings. Do you know why I tore you?”

“No, sir.”

“The scratches on your back, tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your stepmother’s slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her. You needed to know what it felt like.”

“Yes, sir. Please—“

“Ask on, my dear,” said Aslan.

“Will any more harm come to her by what I did?”

Hebrews 10:30-31 (Amp) For we know Him Who said, “Vengeance is Mine [retribution and the meting out of full justice rest with Me]; I will repay [I will exact the compensation],” says the Lord. And again, “The Lord will judge and determine and solve and settle the cause and the cases of His
people.” It is a fearful (formidable and terrible) thing to incur the divine penalties and be cast in the hands of the living God!

Aravis experienced this meting out of justice by the Lion. But the story doesn’t end there. She also experienced the awakening, the spiritual enlightening that is a result of coming face to face
with God.

Hebrews 10:32-37 (Amp) But be ever mindful of the days gone by in which, after you were first spiritually enlightened, you endured a great and painful struggle, sometimes being yourselves a gazing-stock, publicly exposed to insults and abuse and distress, and sometimes claiming fellowship and making common cause with others who were so treated. For you did sympathize and suffer along with those who were imprisoned, and you bore cheerfully the plundering of your belongings and the confiscation of your property, in the knowledge and consciousness that you yourselves had a better and lasting possession. Do not, therefore, fling away your fearless confidence, for it carries a great and glorious compensation of reward. For you have need of steadfast patience and endurance, so that you may perform and fully accomplish the will of God, and thus receive and carry away [and enjoy to the
full] what is promised. For still a little while (a very little while), and the Coming One will come and He will not delay.

I’m so glad that, like Shasta and Aravis, we are pursued by the Living God who solves and settles the cases of His people, even if it might result in a few stripes on our own backs, who rewards those to the fullest who endure the struggles that come with following Him… then promises to return for us so that we may live with Him for eternity!

Hebrews 11:1 (NASB) Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Amen!

by Becky Doughty

Check it out at Amazon.com

And come visit my Author Website: www.BeckyDoughtyBooks.com

God’s in His heaven—all’s right with the world.

Or is it? Egypt uprising, Libya imploding, Israel versus Palestine, Middle East madness, the list goes on. Then there’s our own back yard: lifestyles of the rich and famous, sexual brazenness, entitled self-abuse, marriage made a mockery, and our lack of self-control and responsibility justified by the legalized murder of unborn children. All is NOT right with the world.

In fact, this world as we know it is crumbling. It is destroying itself. I’m not talking about the o-zone layer or our limited fresh water supply or even whether or not you should run the air-conditioner all summer long just because you own one. No, I’m talking about the condition of the hearts and souls and minds of the people who God created then set on this incredible planet so that we could go, be fruitful, and multiply. All we seem to do is to steal, kill, and destroy.

Wait. That sounds like someone else’s agenda. John 10:10 (NASB) tells us “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.”

What happened?!? What made us switch allegiances? Why are we following the thief? And don’t we all know, somewhere deep inside, that the thief can’t be trusted with our lives? That eventually, he’s going to sniff us out, turn on us, and devour us?

Consider the sheep. We human beings are all sheep. We were created to follow the Shepherd, to listen for His voice, to go where He leads, to live under the safety of His watch. But the wolves that lurk just beyond the pasture, Satan and his minions, whisper and seduce, and call to us, convincing us that we are missing out. We begin to drift away from the flock, farther and farther from the Shepherd’s side. Afraid, yet oh, so drawn to the freedom of the wild life, we begin to convince ourselves that maybe if we look and act more like wolves, we’ll be able to run with them. So we color our fleece, the darkness of sin turning our white fibers to gray. We surgically implant fangs in our herbivorous jaws, grimacing at the thought of having to use them to rip and tear flesh, but comforted in knowing that if the need arises, we’ll be ready. We practice the art of indifference until we begin to believe that we really don’t care what we think, they think, the Shepherd thinks. In fact, we are beginning to convince ourselves that we have become wolves.

But no, surgically implanted fangs, permanently dyed wool, and an anesthetized heart does not a wolf make, but a mutant sheep.  And eventually, the wolves – the thief – will sniff us out… and turn on us… and devour us.

There is only one way out of death and back into the fold: The Shepherd. “I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” John 10:9

Mr. Browning may have had it right after all. God IS in His heaven. He IS still in control. He IS still the good and faithful Shepherd, come to bring abundant life for His sheep, willing to lay down His life for us (John 10:9-11). He IS our hope and salvation, and all IS right in His pasture.

I’ll never forget the day when I asked Him where He was – and He didn’t answer. I was suddenly alone in dangerous territory, afraid, and angry. I accused Him of abandoning me. If He loved me so much, how could He walk away and leave me there among the wolves?

I’ll never forget the day when I asked Him why He hated me. He didn’t answer that question either. But in my fear and anger, I was certain that He did, indeed, despise me – and His silence proved it. His silence was all the permission I needed to pursue other gods. Those gods, so attractive and persuasive and seductive at first, were fickle, and false, and ill-fated. I blamed God. And His silence.

I’ll never forget the day when I asked Him how I was supposed to fix this mess of a life I was living. I promised Him I’d try really hard to be a good girl from now on. I heard Him whisper in my ear, “You can’t.” It was faint, but it was God. “There is nothing you can do to fix any of this mess you’ve made.”

Abandoned. Despised. Hopeless.

I’ll never forget the day when I fell on my face, too weary to go on, too weak to go back, exhausted by my own striving to keep everything under control. I handed Him my bruised and battered heart and asked Him to rescue me, to take over, to take me back. He said, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11:28-30 The Message Bible.

Abandoned? Despised? Hopeless? No. He loved me so much that He let me walk away from Him because it was what I wanted to do. He loved me so much that He waited for me, watched for me, longed for my return. He loved me so much that He took me back, covered me with His grace, and restored me to a life free of the bondage of my failures.

Silent? No. He was just waiting for me to ask the right question.

His answer? Love.

But me he caught – reached all the way from sky to sea; He pulled me out of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos, the void in which I was drowning. They hit me when I was down, but God stuck by me. He stood me up on a wide-open field; I stood there saved – surprised to be loved!     2 Samuel 22:17-20 The Message Bible

Looking for love in all the wrong places? From all the wrong people? Asking all the wrong questions? God, who loves you like no other, has the answer you’re looking for.

All you have to do is give Him your heart… and ask the right question.

Do you ever feel this way, like you carefully aim, shoot, and still completely miss the mark? 

It seems lately as though many of us are at a place in our lives when we are asking these questions. What am I doing here? This isn’t what I was aiming for! How did I end up in the forest when I was shooting for the bulls-eye in the middle of the wide, open field? At what point did I lose control of things? 

Yet… what if it is not for me to be the archer, but the arrow instead? What if that target that I am aiming for isn’t where God is directing me? Didn’t I ask Him to have His way with my life? Didn’t I lay my life at His feet and ask Him to be my Master? Maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason that I’ve ended up here, in this time and place, so far from where I thought I was supposed to be. Maybe there’s something here in this “off the mark” place that He wants me to find, to learn from, to grow into, to become. Patience and joy. Obedience and self-control. Faith, hope, and love. Perfect peace, even in the shadowed places. 

The Master Archer never misses His mark. 

Proverbs 16:1-9 (NAS)  The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord. All the ways of a man are clean in his own sight, but the Lord weighs the motives. Commit your works to the Lord and your plans will be established. The Lord has made everything for its own purpose, even the wicked for the day of evil. Everyone who is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord, assuredly, he will not be unpunished. By loving-kindness and truth iniquity is atoned for, and by the fear of the Lord one keeps away from evil. When a man’s ways are pleasing to the Lord, He makes even his enemies to be at peace with him. Better is a little with righteousness than great income with injustice. The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. 

Yet is that even possible? There will always be someone in this broken world who will seek to oppress us, who will avail to usurp God in our lives. Is there any true freedom in this life? 

Yes, yes, and again, I say yes! Here’s my evidence. 

Hosea 6:1-3 

Come, let us return to the Lord… 

We are invited to return to Him. He wants us to come back and accept the salvation that He freely offers. We don’t have to be slaves to the trappings of this earth, we don’t have to live in bondage to sin; to greed, hate, fear, anger, lust, bitterness, or despair. We don’t have to meet our own needs, to scrabble for an identity in this world of compromise. 

For He has torn us, but He will heal us; He has wounded us, but He will bandage us. 

And guess what. God has some mighty big shoulders. He is able – and willing! – to take the responsibility for the wandering of our hearts. Yes, He knows the weaknesses of our human spirits because He made us. He knows what distracts us, what pulls us away from Him. But He promises that He will tend our wounds when we return to Him. He will heal us. He will cover us as we step into the wide open spaces of His love. 

He will revive us after two days; He will raise us up on the third day, that we may live before Him. 

It isn’t going to be easy. There are always repercussions for our choices, for our wandering away, for our sin. But He promises to restore us. He promises to remove the filthy rags that we wear when we come into His presence and replace them with robes of His glory so that we can stand before Him and not be ashamed. 

So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord… 

But it doesn’t end there. He longs for us to know His heart the way He knows ours. He yearns for intimacy with each one of us. Relationships don’t just happen. They require effort, and commitment, along with grace, and love. Relationships require us to press into each other so that we will learn to truly know each other. 

His going forth is as certain as the dawn; 

He can be trusted. His Lordship, His love, His kingdom, these are not uncertainties. He says, “I AM.” He goes forth, the God of the Angel Armies, as Eugene Peterson calls Him, claiming victory over sin, freedom from oppression, and salvation for those who choose to walk in His grace. 

And He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth. 

Those who choose Him find that He is not a cruel God. He is like spring rain that falls on the parched, barren land that has suffered through the brutality of winter, the lonely separation from His peace. He brings the promise of life, He makes all things new. He restores our souls, like the spring rain watering the earth. 

Now THAT, my friends, is freedom. I accept. Won’t you? 

Happy Independence Day!

Cinnamon basil, like all basils, is fairly easy to grow from seed, especially here in Southern California where we live. Basils propagate well from cuttings, too – break off a stem at a joint, stick it in some good soil, and watch a new baby basil grow. 

Cinnamon basil doesn’t just taste good; it is also absolutely gorgeous. The stems are the color of burgundy wine and the leaves blushingly turn to an intense, glossy, green with delicate burgundy veining. The blooms are fuzzy purple spikes bursting with lacy lavender blossoms – it reminds me of lingerie hanging out an Italian villa window high above a cobblestone street. 

Cinnamon basil loves the heat. When the sun comes up and the temperatures rise, my bold, little plant explodes into bloom, bolting skyward to new heights, frothy flower spears raised in jubilation. 

I, the gardener, hurry out with my shears. Not yet, little herb. Not yet. Snip, snip, snip. It isn’t yet time to bloom. You’re not strong enough. You’re not ready. Blooming now will drain you of all your energy, of all your nutrients, of all that you will need to survive the rest of the summer’s soaring temperatures that are yet to come. Blooming now will only weaken you and make you vulnerable to attack. I know you think you were born to bloom… but there’s so much more that I want from you. I don’t just want your flowers, I want your ALL. Your roots must reach down deep, tapping into the rich resources below the soil’s surface, grounding you (literally!) and stabilizing you in the place where I’ve planted you. Your trunk must be thick and straight, sturdy enough to stand up to the wilfulness of the elements, to support new growth. Your stems must be strong and dense in order to efficiently carry nutrients to new branches, to be able to survive the somewhat violent act of starting cuttings. And your leaves must be large and well-formed for the best flavor, shade for new growth, for beauty in the garden. 

Just wait, little herb. Wait until it’s the RIGHT time to bloom. That’s when it’s the BEST time to bloom. 

Psalm 27:13-14 

I travelled mostly by public transportation or by foot, getting on or off the beaten track as I saw fit, and I often found myself standing in the middle of ancient ruins utterly alone. Folks who lived nearby considered the crumbling walls and stone circles just part of the scenery, but I, an all-things-medieval junkie, repeatedly gave in to my pounding heart and salivating glands and took the time to wander each and every one that I stumbled across.

Some of my favorites were the “border castles,” often not much more than a square tower two or three stories high, cropping up along regional boundaries and shorelines. Manned by soldiers and sometimes families, they were built for the sole purpose of guarding the borders against enemy attack. If the few soldiers that resided there couldn’t hold the invaders at bay, runners were sent out to warn the people of what was coming. These watch towers were essential to the well-being of the surrounding towns and villages – those who manned the towers held the peoples’ very lives in their hands. Now-a-days, the towers stand abandoned, useless except as a landmark of history. Every once in a while there might be a plaque imparting some gruesome or heroic tale that took place in or around the structure, but more often than not, they are just empty piles of stones half swallowed up by the earth.

But oh, how those stones spoke to me. Seriously. Alone inside the tumble-down enclosures I imagined life in those days, especially what it must have been like to be a woman. When a man left his home to fight for his king, his wife was left in charge. She wasn’t just responsible for making sure the castle was kept clean and the servants fed. She knew how to balance the coffers. She knew how to doctor the wounded stragglers who made their way home. And she knew how to wield a weapon. The lady of the castle was armed and prepared to fight to the death to defend her home in her husband’s absence. I still remember standing in those silent chambers, my eyes closed, my body relaxed, as I listened… for what?

Well, I don’t know exactly what I expected to hear – whispers of the past? Voices of the fallen? Words of wisdom from those who have gone before me? Instead, I heard breathing. My own. But it was as though I breathed in and out every breath that had ever been inhaled and exhaled inside those walls over the past thousand years. It was as if the very earth itself breathed with me, as though the ground I stood on remembered every footfall, every tender word spoken, every drop of blood shed on that very spot.

I felt so small and insignificant, entirely overwhelmed by the sudden awareness that some things never change. Even to this day, life is poured out for life for the cause of justice, honor, freedom, and peace. War is inherant and inescapable, it seems.

I’ve been told that the same awareness is experienced when visiting places like Cemetery Hill in Pennsylvania where the Battle of Gettysburg was fought, along the banks of the Somme River where the Somme Offensive took place during World War I, at Nazi Death Camps or the beaches of Normandy because of World War II. These places are alive and breathing with the memory of both the fallen and those who remained to tell the tales.

I am blessed because of those who have spilled their blood for my freedom. I gratefully fill my lungs with the breath of those who have given their lives for me. I breathe for them. If their blood is a blessing on me, let my breath be a blessing on them.

Today, in honor of those who have died for the honor of our country, stop what you’re doing and close your eyes for just a moment. Breathe in and out a few times and listen with your heart. Maybe you’ll hear the whispers of the past, the voices of those who have gone before you. Or maybe you’ll hear the sound of your breathing magnified by the breath of the earth as it remembers. Breathe and be grateful.

Dear family and friends,

is yet another lengthy BeckylogueThisgo make yourself a cup of coffee and put your feet up for a few minutes. I hope you   blessedso. are

Do you have a message that God has put on your heart to share?

Here’s what Marcia Laycock writes from Central Alberta Canada.

2  Timothy 1:11-12 – “And of this gospel I was appointed a herald … I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.”

After all, death is only an interruption. The novel might be half finished, the poem only begun, but the words will continue to flow in that new reality. I know whom I have believed and am convinced that he is able.

Marcia’s devotionals have been endorsed by Phil Callaway, Mark Buchanan and Janette Oke. Visit her website at www.vinemarc.com

May God bless you with this Monday Musing from Marcia!