Medium Golden Brown - Jennifer Miller

I am a virgin…for those who know me and know I have 2 children I am not equating myself to Mother Mary.  I am a hair virgin.  I wavered the storms of the 80s and 90s without so much as a crimper, perm, or dye job to touch my hair.  (The hole in the ozone above 15802 Singapore Lane is completely on me. I never shied away from aerosol and aqua net was a personal favorite...  Those bangs didn’t stand up on their own people.)  Sadly, high school ended any desire for upkeep with my hair.  In college, the trend was all about comfort:  baggy oversized sweatshirts paired with leggings and a cute ponytail was all the rage.  Unfortunately, I never really moved past the super casual / pony tail phase of college.  Once I had children I adopted the:  “jimmy crack corn” philosophy for dress code and style.   There just wasn’t enough energy or effort after chasing preschoolers all day to manage an actual hair do.  Doug has gently helped me out throughout the years.  Birthdays, Christmases, and other holidays always find a pretty wrapped package with jewelry, a shirt, or some fashionable piece of clothing.   Fast forward to last week and I found myself with a literal wild hair.  My natural red hair is fading to nothing…literally – no color.  Red hair does not grey – it just fades. 

Despite my introverted personality to keep to routines and avoid change, I threw caution to the wind and decided to trek out to buy myself some hair dye.  Five total minutes of google research had made me a pro as to what product at Target would be best for my skin tone and hair type.  (Have I mentioned that I am WAAAYYY too cheap to go to the salon for color? Also, the commitment level of going to a salon every 6-8 weeks for maintenance would wreak havoc on my current twice a year hair cut schedule.)  Doug was super concerned about my thoughts of dying my wild hairs, but went along for moral support.  He is so precious – he wants for me even more than I want for myself – and I also think he went along for the entertainment.  He was trying to help me avoid becoming either a Muppet or Ronald McDonald.  There is living on the edge and then there is living over the edge.  The line is fine and he was there to help me stay on the path.  In order to avoid the Muppet/Ronald McDonald debacle, I decided I wanted a complete change and would choose a brown hair dye.  42 years as a red head was long enough.  So there we stood in the hair product aisle at Target… Whoa… we both stood there for several minutes taking it all in.  There are A LOT of products that accomplish coloring your hair.  (Ms. Clairol in the beauty section needs to go chat with Mr. McCormick in the grocery section – he accomplishes dying all foods with 4 small bottles of food dye – he has learned the art of keeping it simple.)  We started picking up boxes.  I got tickled hearing Doug read aloud, “This one says it leaves the hair soft” … “This one says best for fine hair” and finally the piece de resistance “This one has golden highlights”.  Boom – WINNER!  It was called “medium golden brown”.  I bought two boxes just in case. 

Before ...

During...

We drove home and somehow I convinced Doug to apply the product.  I donned a trash sack and applied chap stick around my hair line – because Google told me this would keep my skin from turning the color of the dye.  The procedure began in a flurry.  The bottles of dye were mixed and the application began.  There was no looking back – and I was already planning my new fun life of being a brunette.  The directions indicated that once applied, the hair color must stay on for 10 minutes.  I set a timer and when the ding went off I was super excited.  I began to rinse off the color and kept asking Doug, “How does it look?”  He was mostly silent.  He gave a few encouraging statements but since I know him I could tell this wasn’t all good news.   

...After

When the color was rinsed out and the conditioner was applied and rinsed I shot to the mirror ready to behold the change…only to see the exact same color as my hair has always been.  Ok…maybe it was one single tiny shade darker –but not really.  I decided maybe the color would warm up after it was dried.  Nope.  Maybe it would take a few minutes to settle in…nope.  Maybe I was just too close to the process and my kids/family/friends would notice – nope, nope, and nope.  On the up-tick,  I did not look like a Muppet or Ronald McDonald…but boy that was quite a process of time, energy, and effort to walk away unchanged.  I decided that even Clairol knows I don’t need to live on the edge and have packed away the extra box of hair color.  

After ALL of that – and after a really good laugh with Doug, I realized that this is a lesson on how many of my quiet times and dare I say Sunday mornings go with time spent with God.  I put in time, energy, and effort to be with the Lord.  It is not a lack of desire – or lack of study.  I open my Bible – I read His words to me and I talk to Him.  The time spent with Him is tangible… but I listen to hear…not to comprehend or change …I don’t let the words sink into my heart where real change occurs.  When it is all said and done…how many times do I walk away from time spent with Him unchanged- my daily actions shockingly look the same as before.  Oh, that I would continually seek to be changed and colored by Him who loves so perfectly.     

“What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”    Philippians 4:9

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”    James 1:22

This - Jennifer Miller

I am a season of "this"... 

There is this one thing... this one struggle that has my mind's attention almost all day every day.  I have to battle against letting this thing ruin moods, moments, days... and even weeks.  Right now, because of this I am most certainly a fun suck at any gathering.  I feel captive... to all the behaviors and the effects of this thing.

I cling to scripture and its promises ... but there seems to be no relief to my constant pleading with the Lord to resolve this situation.  I have had anger... followed by a renewal to see it as an opportunity for refinement and growth... only to slide into a pit of sadness.  I am usually one breath away from tears when this topic comes up. 

Recently, in Pastor Jeff's sermon, he used a scripture that had a word that jumped right out at me...
 

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. 
With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.         Ephesians 6:18

With this in mind -- when the situation which happens to almost certainly be on my mind, is on my mind... I should be alert and keep on praying.  Alert my mind that the battle I am waging is not against flesh and blood... it is about surrendering my thoughts and control to the Lord and His timing. Then I must keep on praying.

In a recent quiet time, I was reading John 9... where the disciples were asking why a man had been blind since birth... 

 ² His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, 
that he was born blind?”  
³ “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus,  

“but this happened so the power of God could be seen"

John 9:2-3

I couldn't read farther... "this happened"...  there was that word... this. I personalized it immediately and saw the story as if it were addressing my this. I take a small measure of comfort that like me, the disciples were questioning Jesus - they wanted to know why this was happening.  And there was the answer to my why ....

 "this happened so the power of God could be seen". 

In this particular story, Jesus showed his power immediately and tangibly by healing the blind man ... but I realize that may not be the outcome for my "this" here on Earth (enter a big gulp and rolling waves of panic).  But my prayer is that I will allow the Lord to use this situation to make much of Him.  That in my weakness He will be my strength.  Will it take away the hurt - the sting and sadness? Nope.  Am I called to a life without these things - not yet.  So I must trust Him that during this season of life He will be my strength.  Through relying on that strength I will be able to make much of Him.  

I am praying towards being able to say "it is more about Your glory than my comfort".  My confession is that I am not there yet.

Maybe you are in a season of struggle... whatever your "this" is... He wants to show His power through it. 

Whispers In The Mundane: Hearing God in Unlikely Places - Ashley Qualley

A couple months ago, summer did not so much fade away as it did come to a screeching halt. My lazy days at the pool with the kids were quickly traded in for trips to the store for school supplies and new clothes. I was on the cusp of having a brand spank'n new kindergarten kid, a part-time job, and new teaching gig. Every exciting thing felt thrown at me all at once and I walked a fine line between happy and crazy tears. But as is the case for many women, I'd brought much of the busy on myself.

"Yes, I want to step back into the working world! Sure! I can serve in that department. They're taking applications? I'm in!"

"No" isn't a word I lay down very often, partly because I don't want to miss out on an opportunity. I've got this one life! I also don't want to admit that I'm just not enough person to do ALL THE THINGS. Who's comfortable explaining that they can only give of themselves so much before they turn into a holy terror? (If you are this person, I'd like to shake your hand. I'm a wimp.)

While wasting time meant for acquiring the infamous wide-rule notebooks, I was getting lost on Instagram. I stumbled across a friend's pictures of a coffee mug and book sitting on a desk. The desk faced a window overlooking a lovely backyard. The whole setup was so serene. I just wanted to climb into the picture and hide out for a few days. These types of photos are a dime a dozen on social media. We all want to show off our little slice of heaven. But what caught me was her caption.

#theholymundane

The phrase struck a chord with me. How often do we wish for a break in the rush of life? We promise ourselves when the day winds down or when we stumble upon a quiet moment, we'll carve out some rest and rejuvenation with our heavenly Father. This can add up to a lot of empty promises and a frazzled spirit.

I love the story of Elijah in 1 Kings. Elijah is pleading with the Lord after the Israelites have killed all of the prophets and are after him. The Lord has Elijah stand on a mountain while a great wind, then earthquake, and finally a fire occur.

"After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave." I Kings 19:12-13

The imagery of this story absolutely chokes me up. I tend to be so sure that if I can't be bothered to slow down my fast-paced life, God will intervene and use something powerful and loud to project His voice. I don't often listen for Him to whisper to my heart when I'm playing taxi-driver for my children or during a week when I've been working at my church more than I've seen my husband. I assume the noise surrounding me and in my own head is so loud that God will have to be louder. But as it was true for Elijah, our Father is there, whispering to me in the most menial tasks and desires to draws me into his Holy presence.

Not even a week after coming across the Instagram picture, I found myself standing in line at the post office. I had a package in one hand and was holding a three year-old daughter in the other. Thanks to a full day, Hadley began to drift off on my shoulder and before I was to the front of the line, she was snoring softly in my ear. Despite the flickering florescent lights and sullen faces surrounding me, I was wonderfully shaken by the moment. I felt God turning my eyes from my task-filled day to a beautiful lesson. Hadley had no problem finding rest in the most unlikely moment. The post office is as mundane a place as one can get! Sister, God can do anything. He can whisper life-giving truths to your heart in the post office, while fighting your way through the grocery store, or in any situation that seems far from holy. He knows no bounds. God will not wait to teach you and grow you until you find what you deem as an appropriate meeting time with Him. It is up to us, however, to begin to tune our hearts to hear His voice in those unlikely moments and to greet Him as Elijah did.

Turn over and Tune in - Jennifer Miller

As summer storms are prone to do in the DFW area, we recently had several storms pass through our area dumping hail, and producing strong winds and tornadoes.  To the average citizen this is a tragedy, but for news stations across the metroplex it becomes a gold mine of TV and radio coverage.  Meteorologists kick into high gear using tracking devices, touch screens, and radar computers with constant coverage stating their best guestimates of when and where the storms will be.  After the storm passes, every available reporter is tasked to find a broken down power line, a house with missing shingles, or even told to simply stand in a puddle to get just the right sensationalism for the story.  

As I drove to work I was listening to the radio coverage from some sweet lady reporter who had been given the assignment to cover the storm from the local hardware store.  Bless it… I am not sure how far down the reporter food chain she was…but surely this was the first rung on the ladder to news desk anchor.  Her job was to interview patrons going into the store asking them what damage was done to their houses and properties.  She thought she had hit the radio news jackpot when she saw a man with a flat-bed cart.  Surely this man has a tale to tell – and what luck, she was there to get the scoop.   

She began the interview asking the man what damage he had incurred.  He began to speak of his damaged roof, blown out windows, a toppled down fence, and leaking water in several rooms of his house.  Then, after giving the story time to develop, with excited concern the reporter asks, “What supplies are you picking up today to manage the repairs?”  The assumption was that with such damage and his huge flat-bed cart this man must be tackling many giant repairs and surely they could talk about what would be needed to make all these repairs.  I could tell she felt that this might turn out to be a 2 part story complete with commercial break … radio news gold.  

Imagine her surprise when the man replied, “I’m here to pick up some mulch.”  Radio silence… severe awkward no.one.is.speaking.moment.  - not the stuff of radio news gold.  This poor reporter was stumped and didn’t really know how to recover.  Thank goodness it was radio because I imagine her blank stare would not have made a good impression on all the HD TVs of the world (I however had a wonderful laugh out loud chuckle at the whole thing).   

Finally she said, “Mulch?”  to which the man… confused at her confusion… said ever slower “Yes…mulch…(long pause)…the stuff you put in flower beds.”  The reporter shot back to reality and tried to recover by redirecting him saying “Ok – so you are getting mulch for your flower beds… and… is there anything else on your handyman ‘to do’ list today to make repairs to all of your storm damage?”  The precious man said, “Nope.  I can’t do much about the fallen fence, leaking roof, or blown out windows – the insurance people will have to work all that stuff out…but I am focusing on what I can do…  The storm and rains washed out all the mulch from my flower beds so I am going to work on that…I can do something about that.” 

Yep…there it was.  My laughter quickly turned to my own “radio silence”… reflecting about what I had just heard.

 

Unlike the man in the radio interview – who took inventory of his problems and then purposefully chose to tackle the one he was equipped to carry out - I tend to take on all the problems of the world.  I stuff my life back pack full of all of life’s burdens and worries - my heart and mind carry the problems others have, the problems of this world, the worries I have over my kids, my job, and daily routine worries.  I get overwhelmed with “what ifs” …and I sit there and allow all of it to just flood and storm over me.  In my pride of thinking I can handle it all, I rarely stop and ask if these are problems and burdens that the Lord wants me to carry.  

This is not how I know the Lord wants me to function.  He wants me to humbly admit that I am not in control and lay at His feet those problems, worries, and “what ifs”.  (typically this is a moment by moment task for me) He wants me to acknowledge that He is God and I am not.  I then have to trust that in my talking and listening to God in due time He will show me what (if anything) He wants me to take action on.

There are lots of problems in this world – they are fierce and they are real.  Some of life’s problems are solved with a quick text, phone call, or email.  But some problems need my action - focused and devoted time and energy.   It should only be after I have prayed over the problems, that I seek where it is God wants me to do some work. There is freedom in being focused.  There is bondage at my scattered attempts to try and take on and tackle all the worries and problems that press in from all around.   

The Lord wants to shine a light in the area where He is already working and equip me to join in. He wants me to turn over and tune in:  turn over what is His to bear, and tune in to where He wants me at work.  I want to be about my Father’s work.  When life’s problems and worries press in, my prayer should be, “Lord is this my flower bed today?”         

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, so that in due time He may exalt you. Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.

 1 Peter 5:6-7

My Part in the Dallas Shootings - Ashley Qualley

My morning started like any other. I was woken up, not by my alarm clock, but by my chubby-cheeked daughter, staring intently into my very-tired face. The kid loves mornings. And she loves breakfast so off to the kitchen I plodded. Coffee for me, chocolate milk for her. Cook up some turkey sausage, cut up the strawberries. Turn on the TV and wait for the decree on what show tickles her fancy. I could perform my morning duties in my sleep. Enter big brother and cue argument over current TV show. Exit me, stage-right, to the bathroom in an attempt to get ready for the day.

As my sleepy trek through the morning continued, I prepared to take the kids to meet a friend at the park. I was met with questions on the location of shoes, whiny voices demanding to watch "just one more show", and a host of sibling arguments loud enough for neighbors to hear. As I rounded the corner into the living room, finally ready to head to the park, I found myself smack in the middle of another dog-fight. This one involved angry screeches and flying hands.

"Shut UP! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

The words were out of my mouth before I fully realized what was happening. Self-control was a thing of the past and, to be honest, it felt good. I continued to bellow at two wide-eyed children as they made a break for their rooms. The wheels were off. Anger erupted from me with such force that the sounds of slamming cabinets and dishes being thrown into the sink filled the air.

Where had I gone so very wrong? How did I go from serving my children breakfast to screaming hateful words that were never allowed in our home? I spent the rest of the day mentally beating myself up, crying to my husband, and apologizing to my two children. Later that night, I sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels. Breaking news of officers shot in Dallas filled the screen and I sat glued to the story for the next two hours. I was horrified. The world was on fire and it seemed anything was possible. Though yelling at my kids in our living room seemed a far cry from the bodies of fallen officers lining the streets, I couldn't escape the feeling of connection.

The following Sunday, I sat in our Sunday School class, discussing the tragedy in Dallas with friends. One particular women spoke up. A soft-spoken woman, who I could only wish to be more like, said something that cast the bright light of truth on that ugly day.

                   "I  am no different that the man who shot those police officers. Without Jesus, I am capable of anything. Really...I could do unspeakable things if I didn't cling to Jesus."

I will never forget those words. I am capable of anything. My sinner's heart slinks about, ready to pounce on opportunities that feel good in the moment. A mother unleashing anger on her children and a man taking lives at will...they are one in the same. Both offenses lead to death. God accepts no room for qualifying our sins. Death is where all the roads of sin intersect.

                 "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 6:23

For a church-going gal, I knew the threat of sin in my head. But this particular day of death and destruction and the realization that I hadn't clung to Jesus during a hard moment was now penetrating my heart. I need Jesus every minute of every day. I need His face in my mind, His words in my heart, and my hands constantly folded in prayer, begging Him to see me through this life. I am made in His image, but I will not free from the ability to sin until I reach Heaven. I am capable of anything. We all are. Our days must begin in communion with our Creator. We don't know what each day will hold, but we can be sure Christ is walking alongside us. His call to our life can echo far louder than the temptation of sin. He only asks that we take His capable hand.

                                       

Tag-Ripper by Ashley Qualley

My first day of college. I raced across campus and mentally kicked myself for not looking at the map to ensure I knew where I was headed. Not that the map would've helped. I don't read maps. I use landmarks and hope for the best. In this case all of the landmarks were new and unfamiliar to me at my East Texas university. The August humidity and my quick pace formed a fine layer of sweat under my brand new v-neck top and boot-cut jeans. I'm fairly certain everything about me screamed "FRESHMAN".

I eventually located the Language Arts building and burst through the double doors of my Spanish lab. The professor was already discussing the syllabus and almost every seat was taken. I frantically searched the room for an empty seat and located one right smack in the middle. Of course. As I made my way across rows of students, I could feel all eyes on me. At one point I was keenly aware of my backpack bumping someone in the side of the head. "FRESHMAN". Inches away from the seat and able to see relief on the horizon, I felt something grab the side of my jeans. My brain registered everything that followed in painful slow motion. A fellow female student was tearing away the size sticker than ran down the side of my new size twelve jeans. The horror. All the way down my pant-leg was the number twelve...12, 12, 12, 12. A complete stranger now knew that I was so very freshman with my new school clothes and could tell the world what size jeans I wore. Ouch. She handed me the tag and I spent the rest of that first class staring at my professor in defeat. I knew she was speaking to us, but my size twelve debacle had dulled her voice to a muffled drone in the distance.  What a punch in the gut on what should've been a monumental day.

Four years later, despite that first day in Spanish lab, I became a college graduate. Somehow, I managed to put my embarrassment aside, made incredible, laugh-out-loud memories, found a love of writing, and graduated with honors. I am the poster child for underdogs everywhere. But in all seriousness, since stepping into the adult world after college, I've started to measure my relationships with women against the Great Tag Ripping of 2000. What that random girl did for me the first day of school was, in reality, a great kindness. She had options. She could've left the tag right where it was so students all over campus could have a good laugh at my expense as I migrated from class to class. Instead of immediately handing me the tag, she could have waved it around for other students to see. She certainly had a funny enough story! But this particular girl made the choice to quickly remove a very obvious sign that I was a freshman mess and did it discretely. Though it smarted, she did the best thing for me. I don't remember her name or her face, but I do know that she acted as a friend in the great community of women.

When I look at the women in my life, I now ask myself if I'm acting as a kindly Tag-Ripper. Am I able to withhold judgement and offer help where it is needed? Do I wave my friends' weaknesses in their face and make light of areas in which they struggle? Do I protect fellow women from the gossip and ugliness of others? The answers vary, depending on how close to Jesus I'm drawing at any particular time. The farther I walk down my own road and not that of my Savior, the more likely I am to fall down on the job as Tag Ripper. The Bible says, "There are friends who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother" (Proverbs 18:24). I don't know about you, but I want to be a friend who sticks closer than a brother, a Tag-Ripper. The world might just want to know a little more about our Jesus if there are more of us out there looking out for each other.

Brain Teasers: Jennifer Miller

I have never ever enjoyed brain teasers.  You can call them brain games or mental challenges but whatever two word-pairing you derive will simply equal awfulness to me.  I am simply not patient enough, nor smart enough, and don’t find any enjoyment from teasing my brain.  My brain works hard enough to just function…let’s leave the teasing to a fine tooth comb and some aqua net.

My dad; however, loves brain teasers.  Some fathers receive ties on Father’s Day…nope, my dad wants brain teasers.  He loves them... get the ring off the two horse shoes – done; jump all those little golf tees on the triangular base and only leave one – no problem; figure out who sat next to whom on five different trains arriving in 13 different countries at 52 different times – solved and solved.  A vivid early childhood memory I have is my Dad receiving a new-fandangled toy:  The Rubik’s Cube.  Ever the thinker and problem solver that he was, he sat down with a piece of paper and began to work out equations on how to solve this cubed puzzle.  After a few weeks he was able to solve it…I could twist and turn to my heart’s content and hand it to him and he could pattern logic his way to get all those colored squares back together again.  Fabulous!  One afternoon, I found myself alone with The Rubik’s Cube. I happily did some twisting and turning in an effort to try and line up the colors.  I thought I could get them all straight but it seemed the more I turned the more jumbled things got. I had no plan or logic – I just twisted. I couldn’t figure it out but I was not going to let this toy get the best of me.  After a good effort (which probably equated to 2 total minutes) I dug my fingernail underneath one of those colored stickers and low and behold it peeled right off.  Fantastic!  I set out and pulled off each and every sticker and was careful not to lose any.  I re-pressed and re-sealed each sticker into their rightful blocks of color.  I didn’t put any thought as to where the colors should go…just that the colors should fill a side.  I wasn’t trying to make red next to yellow or blue next to green…I just slapped the stickers on there.  When my dad got home I proudly plopped it into his hand and pronounced that I had solved it.  He didn’t notice the altered cube…at first.  In fact, I had done quite a good job at reattaching all those stickers.  The problem came when he tried to solve the puzzle after it was mixed up again.  He had a set of equations and turns that matched the original color scheme.  Unfortunately, where the colors were placed mattered, and although visually looking correct, my deception was found out because it was not the exact replica that my father was used to working with. It was clear that I had messed with the original design of the toy and compromised the integrity of the game.  I am not sure what my consequence was…but I am certain it was not as harsh as it should have been. 

Much to my father’s dismay, I think we have reached the shallow end of the gene pool for solving brain teasers starting with my generation.  Unfortunately, my children don’t seem to be fairing much better with them.  I remember when they were little introducing them to the wonderfulness that was the “20 questions” game.  We were waiting in a doctor’s office far past humanly possible and insanity was setting in.  I brilliantly thought a game of 20 questions would be just what we needed to pass the time.  Here is the scenario as it played out each.and.every.time.

Me:  (after explaining all the rules) “ok I have thought of something” (a dog)

Child one:  is it a basketball?

Me: ummm…no – and you should start with something more general like “is it a person place or thing?”

Child two:  is it a person place or thing?

Me:  it is a thing

Child one:  is it my foot?

Me: no…and wow that is specific.  Again – think of categories or bigger broader groups of items

Child two:  is it Dad?

Me: no – that is a person…I said it was a thing

Child one: is it Q-tip?

This would continue with each child naming random specific things that came to mind until I just gave up and finally this happened:

Child one:  is it a cup?

Me:  yep – you got it…I was thinking of a cup.

See what I did there….I just made a lie the truth.  And crazily enough they bought it and were extremely satisfied with themselves for guessing the right object and we celebrated by them wanting to play another round.  Sigh …serenity now.

Despite my dislike for brain teasers, I can’t seem to get away from them.  I encounter them every day.  Not The Rubik’s Cube or 20 questions variety of brain teasers… but a different kind of brain game: recognizing the twists of truth and lies from Satan.  He packages a thought in my brain and makes it so palatable that I buy into it and believe a lie as the truth. It is who he is – and he is good at messing with my brain.    If I don’t examine the words he whispers against the truth of what my Heavenly Father has said in scripture, I will not be able to clearly see that what Satan is telling me is not an exact replica of what is found in scripture. 

… the lie of being “less than”

… the lie of thinking that my sin is not so bad

… the lie of not seeing my priorities as misaligned

Thankfully I have a model in the life of Jesus as what to do when I encounter these brain teasers. 

Mark 4:3-11

“The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” ⁴ Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

⁵ Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. ⁶ “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:

“‘He will command his angels concerning you,
    and they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

⁷ Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

⁸ Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. ⁹ “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

¹⁰ Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”

¹¹ Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.

Each and every time Satan uses a lie … twisted truth to tempt Jesus.  Jesus’ example to us is profound.  He does not rely on his feelings or even on what he thinks – He relies on what he KNOWS.  His response is always examining what was said against scripture to test its truth.  When what Satan said was found as a lie, Jesus responded by quoting scripture.  He knew the scriptures well and had them memorized.  He knew these were brain teasers – that what Satan offered was not truth - and our Lord called Satan out on it. 

When I find myself staring into the face of a “brain teaser” from Satan, my prayer is that I will recognize it as a lie and search out the truth.  While I may not be able to have scripture “at the ready” for every scenario like Jesus did – I pray that I would seek it out…write it out…and say it out loud to combat the lies.  Here are some examples of the brain teasers that I have encountered recently:

Satan came to me and whispered, “Jesus died for you…But I’m not sure why because you are severely blowing this whole parenting, wife, friend thing.  With your issues it is no wonder you feel alone” But I said to him, “The Lord my God is with me, the Mighty Warrior who saves.  He takes great delight in me; in His love He will no longer rebuke me, but will rejoice over me with singing (Zephaniah 3:17).  “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within me, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” (Philippians 1:6)    

Then the devil took me to my sin and said, “this is not so bad…you lied because you wanted to keep people happy and Jesus wants you to keep the peace and unity in the body of Christ”.  But Jennifer said “The LORD detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.” (Proverbs 12:22)  

The tempter came to her and said, “It’s ok that you haven’t spent time with God this week – He will understand… You are serving on church committees and doing good things for your family.” But Jennifer answered, “In everything you do, put God first, and he will direct you and crown your efforts with success.” Proverbs 3:6

As you start your day, consider this prayer:

Lord, even before I get out of bed, I acknowledge that Satan is waiting to throw some brain teasers into my day.  Help me see truth today – I want to walk in that truth.  Help me to plainly see lies and use scripture to combat those lies.  Your word is ever true and unfailing.     

I would love to hear from you…what are some brain teasers you encounter? What truth from scripture do you use to shine truth into it?