A Path Unknown

A Path Unknown
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Today I walk along a path unknown;
I must admit I never would have come here on my own.
In fact, I don’t know how I happened here,
or where this path will lead; there is so much that is unclear.

But He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

Today it seems I have a choice to make.
I could denounce this path as some immense divine mistake,
or I could view it as a chance to rest
within my Father’s loving arms, held safe against His breast.

For He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

I don’t know where or when this path will end,
but God, the mighty warrior, walks beside me as a friend.
His perfect love my anxious heart will still,
and over me He will rejoice, with songs my senses fill.

For He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

Lord, you know when I sit and when I rise.
You hem me in before and then You hem me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to You; You fill it with Your light.

Based on:
Psalm 139:2,5,12
Zephaniah 3:17




Two and a half weeks ago, following a needle biopsy on my breast, I learned that I have a rare form of breast cancer –a Phyllodes tumor. I had never heard of this diagnosis before, and as you might guess it raised a lot of questions. The nurse who gave me the news couldn’t tell me anything except that it would require surgery. My own doctor’s nurse only told me that this type of tumor is “unpredictable,” and although it is benign, it has malignant potential. I began reading everything I could find online, and even more questions were raised.

Finally, I met with a surgeon this week. He was very helpful and patient with all of my questions, carefully answering each of them and reassuring me as best he could. The surgery (a wide margin excision) was scheduled for December 1st. I am relieved to have the date set, and I welcome your prayers for the surgery.
I have many reasons to feel thankful and blessed. Apparently, we caught this growth much earlier than is usually possible, and it is benign, meaning that it does not metastasize. I also have a wonderful support system through my family, friends, and church. Still, it hasn’t been easy.

I first became aware of concerns over my mammogram September 2nd. That means that three months will have elapsed by the time I have surgery on December 1st. Strangely enough, the most difficult thing for me was committing to have the needle biopsy.

Following a routine mammogram I was asked to return for a magnification mammogram. A radiologist showed me the results and spoke to me before I left. She was concerned about some micro-calcifications too small to see clearly, even with magnification. Although 80 to 90 percent of micro-calcifications are benign, she wanted me to have a large core needle biopsy on the area. For this procedure I would lie on my stomach on a raised table, my breast hanging through an opening, as multiple tissue samples were extracted from it by the physician below.

The original mammogram was done the last day of our insurance eligibility before John retired. Our insurance coverage was now catastrophic with a high deductible. I knew nothing about this new insurance, except that we were starting from scratch, and I figured this probably wasn’t a good way to start. I was more annoyed than anything, thinking that this biopsy was most likely an unnecessary procedure. I had already learned that it was very costly. I agreed to think and pray about it before deciding.

I was taken by surprise in the middle of that night when I awoke shaking, tears streaming, soaking my pillow. I supposed that it had to do with the dilemma I was facing, although I hadn’t felt the anxiety earlier in the day. So, I prayed specifically asking God to grant me wisdom and peace, but the same thing happened the following night and the night after that. I knew that this reaction was extreme, but I also felt that I needed to understand why I was reacting this way before I made my decision.

Two weeks passed. I had a few restful nights here and there, but most were interrupted. Finally, during one of my now familiar episodes, I prayed earnestly for both wisdom and peace. This time God answered immediately in the form of a revelation. I was transported to a time when I was twelve years old, pinned against the wall by my brother in law, powerless to protect my developing breasts as he pinched and prodded. Now the tears came like a flood. Isn’t it amazing how memories that have supposedly been put to rest can retain such power several decades later? I realized then that my overwhelming fear was not about the outcome of the biopsy, or even about the exorbitant cost, but about the procedure itself or more specifically, my vulnerability during the procedure. With that realization came an overwhelming sense of peace about going ahead with the biopsy –not that I thought it would be a piece of cake- but I knew that, with God’s help, I would now be able to handle it. What an amazing, direct answer to prayer!

The following day I called my doctor and asked to have the biopsy scheduled.
Those who know me know that I am pretty laid back. I have never minded having dental work or other medical procedures, including surgery. I had many people praying for me, and I could sense their prayers. Still, enduring that procedure was a serious exercise in trust and dependence on God. I softly cried my way through it and was exhausted when it was over.

But it wasn’t over. A few days later I learned the results of the biopsy. Since then it has become apparent that God answered the other portion of my prayer, granting me wisdom to go ahead with the biopsy. As I suspected, the microcalcifications didn’t turn out to be of any concern. Nor do they normally have any correlation with a Phyllodes tumor. However, since the mammogram did not reveal a tumor, mine most likely would not have been found until it grew much larger and more problematic, had it not been for the biopsy. Thank you, precious Holy Spirit, for the wisdom, peace, and direction that only You could give!

These past three months have been filled with crazy, unfamiliar emotions. From the very beginning, however, I have recognized this season as an opportunity to hold onto my Father, God, and trust Him like never before. Spending more time with Him has been sweet, for in the midst of uncertainty it is comforting to always find Him there. I can truly say I am thankful for the ways I have grown in dependence on Him, and the tender ways He has ministered to me through His Word, song lyrics, my husband, wonderful friends, and yes, even middle of the night panic attacks.

The song at the beginning of this post is also a product of this difficult time –a blend of messages God has delivered to me in various ways. It occurred to me after I finished writing these words that my entire life is really “A Path Unknown.” When things are going my way it’s easy to fool myself, thinking I know what tomorrow or next month or even next year will bring, but my plans are only good for as far as I can see. They can unravel very quickly. I am so thankful that the all-knowing, all-seeing, ever-present God is my friend and constant companion through all of life’s uncertainties.

Today I am sharing my heart with you, along with some unpleasant details of my life, both past and present. I pray that it may in some way encourage you in facing the obstacles and uncertainties of your own life, or help prepare you for the trials that may eventually find you. Perhaps I have included too much information, but if any part of this message blesses or encourages you, if it draws you into closer fellowship and dependence on Jesus Christ, or evokes an attitude of thankfulness and praise, my journey down this path has been worthwhile. Give God the glory. He alone is worthy!

Ultimately, the best advice on the topic of trials is found in James 1: 2-5 (NIV) “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. “

The Fragile Bowl

by Sharlyn Guthrie











Life is great, the day is bright, I’m feeling satisfied.
It often seems that’s just the time my faith is sorely tried.
I’ll stretch a little higher, maybe now I’ll reach my goal.
My fingertips have brushed, and now dislodged the fragile bowl.
In an instant confidence comes crashing at my feet.
There it lies in shattered slivers, threatening my defeat.
One moment all I strove for was nearly in my grasp.
In haste it was destroyed before the next moment elapsed.

This scene has been replayed, and now I ache with a desire
To sweep the pieces up and drop them in God’s blazing fire.
His skillful hands mold broken shards into a vessel healed,
Each more exquisite than the last, His workmanship revealed.
The fire is hot, the process sometimes painful and severe;
But with each trial I’m learning better how to persevere.
When at last my vessel glistens, completed by His grace
I want to see more clearly the image of His face.

Exulting in my circumstance so tragic, yet assured
I find in Him the strength I need to patiently endure.
The confidence restored is in my Savior, not my self.
Tenderly I place it on a not-so-distant shelf.
Resplendent in its beauty, when I look at it I see
A reflection of my Master where my handprints used to be.
New hope expands within me, stirred by the Spirit’s breath;
A hope that never disappoints, and fears not even death.

(Based on Romans 5:3-5)

His Astonishing Ways

"God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways."
~ 2 Corinthians 9:9 (MSG)

Several years ago I experienced a most painful betrayal. I felt such a sense of loss, such heartache. Although I am optimistic by nature, I couldn’t help but think that my life had been permanently altered. In a sense it had.

I am not the same person today that I was before that experience. I am closer to my Father God than I have ever been. I am also a better mother, wife, sister, and friend. Through that difficult experience God humbled me, broke me, released me, restored me.

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.” James 1:12(NIV)

Had I not experienced it, I most likely would not have appreciated the truth of these verses, but I am convinced that one of the most astonishing methods God uses to pour out his blessings is through trials and testing.













They tell me I must bruise
The rose’s leaf,
Ere I can keep and use
It’s fragrance brief.

They tell me I must break
The skylark’s heart,
Ere her cage song will make
The silence start.

They tell me love must bleed,
And friendship weep,
Ere in my deepest need
I touch that deep.

Must it be always so
With precious things?
Must they be bruised and go
With beaten wings?

Ah, yes! By crushing days,
By caging nights, by scar
Of thorn and stony ways,
These blessings are!

-Mrs. Charles E. Cowman
Streams In The Desert



In Other Words is being hosted today by Deborah. I hope you will take the time to read some of the other posts on this quote.

Sharing With You "A Distant Grief"

Picture: Ugandan children waiting their turn for an eye exam

Most of you no doubt know by now that I will be going to Uganda in June.
After learning of my upcoming trip to Uganda, a friend of ours lent me a book that he considers a special treasure. A Distant Grief, by F. Kefa Sempangi was written by a Ugandan professor and pastor in the 1970’s during Idi Amin’s regime. Eventually this pastor was forced to leave the country, and after being hounded by spies in Kenya and the Netherlands, he came to the United States to pursue a seminary degree.

The book has been inspiring and informative in many ways. For one thing, it is giving me some historical background on Uganda. I was in high school and college during the Idi Amin years, and although I recall hearing his name, I knew nothing of the horrors he inflicted on his people. Nor did I realize that his travesties were committed in the name of Allah with help from Muslim nations.

I am also gaining some cultural perspectives on the country from this book. Mr. Sempangi grew up in a rural village, was sent to the city to attend school, and eventually traveled abroad for his university education. He compares and contrasts the various challenges and mindsets of each distinct group.

Some of the best insights I am gaining, however, are spiritual ones. The clarity and wisdom God gave this man is nothing short of amazing. God gifted him with the faith and fortitude he needed for the times and conditions in which he lived. Some of his insights particularly grabbed me as a western Christian. I am praying that God uses this new spiritual knowledge in my own life, as well as in my ministry to the people I meet in Uganda.

Speaking of Ugandans, this is what Kefa Sempangi had to say:

We were, I knew, a needy people. We could not afford to be answered in abstractions. We could not afford to separate doctrine and life. Even our language reflects this need for the concrete. “Truth” for a non-westernized African does not refer to a statement’s correspondence with a fact. Truth is a quality of things. A mango tree is true if it bears sweet mangoes, a house is true if it is upright. A man is true if he knows how to run his home, control his temper, resist gossip.

A religion is true if it works, if it meets all the needs of the people. A religion that speaks only to man’s soul and not to his body is not true. Africans make no distinction between the spiritual and the physical. The spiritual is not a category among categories but the lens through which all of life is viewed. A tribesman from my village knows that cutting a tree, climbing a mountain, making a fire, planting a garden and bowing before the gods are all religious acts.

How thankful I am that God led our team to take glasses and dental supplies to Uganda as part of our ministry. No wonder He has provided more glasses than any of us could have even imagined! Just this week I was offered hundreds of glasses by our local Lion’s Club, along with the opportunity to address them at their next meeting and share our ministry with them. I couldn’t have been more amazed, but God knows exactly what we need, and is providing it despite our cluelessness! He is truth in every sense of the word!

Later in the book, Kefa made some observations about the changes he experienced after living in America for just a short time. This section had been underlined by the friend who lent me the book, so I know these observations impacted him as they did myself:

Our first semester passed quickly. Penina gave birth to our son, Dawaudi Babumba. In the fall I returned to my studies. It was then, in my second year, that I noticed the change that had come into my life. In Uganda, Penina and I read the Bible for hope and life. We read to hear God’s promises, to hear His commands and obey them. There had been no time for argument and no time for religious discrepancies or doubts.

Now, in the security of a new life and with the reality of death fading from mind, I found myself reading Scripture to analyze texts and speculate about meaning. I came to enjoy abstract theological discussions with my fellow students and, while these discussions were intellectually refreshing, it wasn’t long before our fellowship revolved around ideas rather than the work of God in our lives. It was not the blood of Jesus Christ that gave us unity, but our agreement on doctrinal issues. We came together not for confession and forgiveness but for debate.

The biggest change came to my prayer life. In Uganda I had prayed with a deep sense of urgency. I refused to leave my knees until I was certain I had been in the presence of the resurrected Christ. It was not just the gift I needed. I needed to see the Giver. I needed to know that the God of orphans and widows, the God of the helpless, heard my prayers. Now, after a year in Philadelphia, the urgency was gone. When I prayed publicly I was more concerned to be theologically correct than to be in God’s presence. Even in private my prayers were no longer the helpless cries of a child. They were spiritual tranquilizers, thoughts that made no contact with anything outside themselves. More and more I found myself coming to God with vague requests for gifts I did not expect.

How convicting! It is sobering to realize the extent of spiritual damage our cushy western existence has wreaked. Many of us have readily exchanged God’s presence and power in our daily lives for ideas –ideas, in fact, that often serve to divide rather than unify us as believers. It makes me realize all the more the meaning of the passage in James that begins like this, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials.” (James 1:2 NASV) Encountering trials has the potential to draw us into dependence on God more quickly and completely than any other life circumstance. Ironically, our spiritual lives are most endangered when life is easy and our immediate needs are few. No wonder Ugandans are ripe for the gospel. They have struggled through many trials as a country, and continue to face overwhelming challenges.

I am grateful for Chuck Lillis, the friend who listened to the prompting of the Holy Spirit and shared A Distant Grief with me. I am also thankful for the many things I learned from the book. I will ponder, treasure, and strive to apply them in my life and in my ministry, particularly as I travel to Uganda. I hope these words have spoken to your heart today as well.

Below are more pictures of the vision screening taking place in preparation for our arrival in June. Please pray that all the preparations go well and that God is glorified in every way.

I Am Still Confident of This

I Am Still Confident of This
By Sharlyn Guthrie

Her long strides barely matched his short-legged sprint. Tugging excitedly on her arm and her heart, he pulled her through the long, noisy hall. “Welcome to Kindergarten,” proclaimed the apple poster on his classroom door.

“Bye, Mom!’ Her eyes glistened as she listened for any hint of trepidation. There was none. Blowing her a kiss, he scuttled through the melee, depositing his backpack in the cubbyhole with his name printed above. Through the glass she observed him glancing around the room, and then brightening at the sight of the block corner. With easy confidence he rushed to join several other novice builders.

“Father, watch over him today and throughout his years of education. May he always be as eager to learn as he is this morning.” The lump in her throat eased as she prayed, stepping out into the sunshine of her first day without him at her heels.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hidden Valley Bible Camp,” read the sign swinging in the breeze, marking a path that descended into underbrush. They had driven three hours to find this place and now her stomach lurched, more from her own anxious thoughts than from careening down the steep hillside.

A smile remained fixed across his freckled face as wide eyes scanned the primitive surroundings. “I can’t believe that you and Dad are letting me spend two weeks here! This is the best!”

Assigned to the same cabin as two others in the registration line, he ran ahead with his new-found friends while she drove to the cabin, then watched him hoist his sleeping bag overhead, claiming the top bunk.

No need to embarrass him with unsolicited displays of affection. She waved and smiled with more sincerity than she felt and ascended the lane, praying as she drove. “Father God, thank you for blessing our son with strength and confidence. Use this time and the people here to create in him a hunger and thirst for you. I entrust him completely to Your care. Amen.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He was easy to locate in the procession of graduates identically adorned in shiny robes and tasseled hats. He stood a little taller, a little straighter, every measured step exuding quiet confidence.

Her moist eyes were trained on the boy she had raised who, today, looked more like a man. Clutching her husband’s muscular arm, she listened attentively as a uniformed Marine outlined their son’s accomplishments and welcomed him into the armed services. No summer camp this year. He would report for basic training in two weeks.

“It’s what I have to do, Mom,” he had argued. There was no refuting him.

So this is what letting go feels like, Lord. It is more painful than I could have imagined. But he is Yours, Lord. Only You know where this commencement will eventually lead. We offer him, Your precious gift to us, to use for Your honor and glory.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Suppressing waves of nausea, she clung to the pew in front of her, seeking stability where there was none. Red, swollen eyes were outward indicators of her inward turmoil. Anger, hurt, confusion, incredulity…attempting to label the jumble of emotions was futile. She strained to envision his familiar freckled face with squared jaw and shaved head, smiling his usual confident smile as he waved goodbye. She recalled his tenacity as he hugged her, planting a kiss on her forehead. Why, then all this talk of her son in past tense? Surely he would march in, joining the ranks of his somber-looking comrades very soon.

Grief and reality joined cruel hands, gripping her as the account was read of his final moments –his warning shout, the ambush, an explosion, the last words from his lips, “Help me, Jesus!”

Finally the voice of her son spoke directly to her in the words of David being read from Psalm 27. “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”*

And she whispered, “Help me, Jesus!”



*Psalm 27:13-14 (NIV)


I wrote this story in July, 2007 for a Faithwriter’s entry on the topic “Confident.” It placed 9th in the Masters level for that week.
For links to more great fiction, visit Yvonne at My Back Door.

Faith: A Precious Gift

“Give yourself permission not to know
and be satisfied knowing the One who does.”
~ by Joyce Meyer, I Dare You

Apostle, prophet, teacher, administrator, tongues, healing, helps, faith, prayer, knowledge...Do you know what the things on this list have in common? They are all spiritual gifts. As Christians, we are each given some of these gifts at the time of our salvation, and it is our responsibility to discover, exercise, and put to use the gifts God gave us.

It was only after marrying my husband that I became aware of one of my most treasured spiritual gifts –the gift of faith. My wonderful husband, John, is an engineer. Everything in his world has to make sense in order to work. He truly loves the Lord, but he struggles with faith. John’s tendency is to take everything apart piece by piece, examine it, and then fit it back together. I constantly find myself telling him, “Neither life nor Scripture are like that. In both we come upon things we simply cannot explain. That’s where faith comes in.” I often feel bad for him, wishing I could ease the conflict he so often feels, but I can’t. He has his own spiritual gifts, of course, and I often wish I could see things more logically, and understand how things actually work. Still, as time goes on, I become more and more thankful for my gift of faith.

Seven years ago my faith was put to its greatest test. All three of our sons were married to lovely Christian girls, two of them sisters. I had longed for the day when I would no longer be the only female in the family, and we welcomed our daughters in law with open arms. All were in constant contact with us, and very involved in their churches. So we couldn’t have been any more shocked when our oldest son, Travis, called one day to say that his wife had left him, saying she didn’t want to be married any more. He was absolutely stunned and devastated. Of course this rocked our entire family, in part because her only sister was still married to another son. If that wasn’t enough of a blow, we learned within the day that another son, Tristan, and his wife had lost the baby that was to have been our first grandchild.

I was soon on a plane to Texas, since both sons needing comfort lived there. I prayed and prayed, but couldn’t stop crying. God comforted me by bringing to mind verses of Scripture I had memorized over the years, and the words of hymns that came easily to mind.

I remember telling my son, Tristan, who was in seminary at the time, (he was also the one grieving over the loss of his first child), “I know how God wants Travis’ story to end. If this marriage can be saved, it will bring more glory to Him. So He will surely answer our prayers, and bring them back together.”

I still see in my mind’s eye Tristan’s sorrowful expression as he replied, “We live in a fallen world. God sees and cares, but He doesn’t always intervene. He allows us to make choices contrary to his will. Illnesses and death still occur. There is nothing we can do about many of those things but trust Him to help us through it.” Perhaps his words should have shaken my faith, but they strengthened it instead. I realized immediately that my faith had been misplaced. My faith needed to be in God, Himself, not in the outcome.

The next several months were so difficult, but with Travis looking to us for wisdom and comfort, I felt a responsibility to deal quickly and completely with my own grief and to seek God’s face like I had never done in the past. It was a bittersweet time as I grew in my faith by leaps and bounds, but I came to realize that the marriage would not be saved. Neither would Tristan and his wife be able to conceive again for a couple more years. I began to understand how hard it is as a parent to see your children suffer through trials that I would have gladly suffered myself, if only I could have spared them the pain.

It also helped me to understand how God, our Heavenly Father must feel when He sees me hurting and struggling in this imperfect, sin-wrecked world, and how He ultimately sacrificed His only Son to spare me from a life-sentence of certain death. That is where my faith, my hope, and my comfort lie. Now, seven years later, I can see many ways that God used those awful experiences for His glory, and for good in all of our lives.

A few years ago I taught a Ladies’ Sunday school class on the attributes of God, using the book, The Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer. If you have never taken an in-depth look at who God is, what He cannot help but be, because He is God, I encourage you to do it without delay. The truth of God’s character, combined with His faithfulness that I have experienced in the midst of trials gives me something solid to cling to when I am faced with questions I cannot answer. I may not know how a certain passage of Scripture fits into God’s plan for me or the world He created, but that uncertainty can’t shake my faith in the great I Am. He has always been, and will always be who He has claimed to be. It is almost beyond comprehension that I have the opportunity to draw near to this amazing God, and that in so doing, He will draw near to me. (James 4:8)
Here are some song lyrics that illustrate beautifully Joyce Meyer’s quote and the things I have shared:

After the Last Tear Falls (by Andrew Peterson)
After the last tear falls
After the last secret's told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone
After the last child starves
And the last girl walks the boulevard
After the last year that's just too hard

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

After the last disgrace
After the last lie to save some face
After the last brutal jab from a poison tongue
After the last dirty politician
After the last meal down at the mission
After the last lonely night in prison

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last plan fails
After the last siren wails
After the last young husband sails off to join the war
After the last "this marriage is over"
After the last young girl's innocence is stolen
After the last years of silence that won't let a heart open

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last tear falls
There is love

Thank you, God, that You are the Giver of love and the Lover of all. Thank you for the gift of faith with which You have blessed me. Thank you for sustaining me with this gift, and using it to help me to grow in awe of You. For those I love, and those reading this who may find it hard to trust You completely, I pray for a greater measure of Your faith, and a very real knowledge of who You are. I know I will face many more unknowns in this life, but I also know, and fully trust, the One who will see me through them.


I am participating in the Tuesday meme, "In Other Words" hosted today by Nina at Mama's little Treasures. Please visit her blog for links to more discussion on this quote.

The Tried and True Oreo Cookie

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12

Maybe it’s because I am hungry, but the more I contemplate this verse, the more it reminds me of an Oreo cookie. Now I realize that doesn’t sound very spiritual, but stay with me. I’ll try to explain.

An Oreo cookie has two sides held in place by the filling; or perhaps it’s the other way around –a filling, held in place by its two sides. Either way you look at it, it’s a time-tested recipe. It works!

The creamy center filling of Romans 12:12 is “patience in affliction.” Afflictions are common to all of us. When a trial or affliction comes my way, there is often little I can do but endure it. Of course I could choose to complain about my situation, lashing out at God and everyone around me, but that would only expose my character, rather than shape it. If instead I endure my afflictions patiently, I will be enriched and grow; I will stick with it and persevere; and God will be glorified. Patience is the sticky, sweet ingredient in afflictions, just as corn syrup is the sticky, sweet ingredient in the filling of the Oreo.

My filling clings on one side to the “faithfulness in prayer” cookie. It is often because I am “stuck” there in the center of my affliction that I find myself repeatedly calling upon God for strength, endurance, and deliverance. Nothing increases the urgency and faithfulness of my prayer life like an affliction or trial. It works the other way, too. Remaining faithful in prayer increases my ability to remain patient in afflictions.

On the opposite side, my filling clings to the cookie of “joyfulness in hope.” Regardless of what the affliction is, it stirs in me a hope for Heaven, where there will be no more afflictions, no pain, no sorrows or trials. This hope produces joy, because no matter what, I know the ultimate end of the story.

I am always thankful for the cookies on each side of the filling when I eat an Oreo cookie. Besides being delicious, they give me something solid to hold onto. What could be more solid in the Christian life than hope and prayer? Without those two essential elements, it would be nearly impossible to patiently endure the trials that are sandwiched in between. Attempting to eat the filling by itself could get quite messy. In the same way, my life would be messy if I had to deal with trials without the benefit of prayer and hope.

There you have it: short, sweet, and stuck together in a neat little package just like a delicious Oreo cookie. Think of the Oreo and remember God's tried and true recipe for success the next time you find yourself facing an affliction or trial: "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

Now, if you will excuse me, it’s time for a snack. I think I’ll start by pouring myself a nice tall glass of milk.

















Today I am participating in "Monday Manna," hosted by Joanne Sher at An Open Book. Visit her blog for links to more discussion on Romans 12:12.

Monday Manna: It's Okay to Cry

When I saw the verse for this week’s Monday Manna at Joanne Sher’s An Open Book, I knew I had to ask my daughter-in-law’s permission to share something she wrote last September. This was written the day after Sarah and our son, Tyson, lost a long-awaited and much anticipated baby. It was discovered during her check-up that the baby’s heart had stopped beating.


September 26, 2008
I’ve never really had a desire to sit down and write something…until now. God has really laid this stuff on me today and I just have to get it out. Mostly for my benefit…but I hope that I can encourage you through it too.

John 11:35
Jesus wept.

This is one of those verses that I normally just breeze past or use when involved in a game where I have to know the shortest verse in the bible…but today, these words came as a great comfort to me. As I did my bible study today it was over PEACE and the PEACE that Jesus had even through the death of his good friend Lazarus. Verse 4 of John 11 says this “…No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Even knowing that He would raise Lazarus from the dead and that God would be glorified through it, Jesus still wept. Now looking at this story again, I realize it may not have been because of the death of his friend, but because those who knew Christ and knew God’s power still didn’t believe and have faith…BUT the thing I got from it applies either way-IT’S OKAY TO CRY. And after the sorrow and grief have passed and even through it, I believe God IS glorified. I have faith that God is my MIGHTY ROCK and that He has a plan for our lives that is beyond anything we could imagine for ourselves.

I have had moments today where I just break down and cry, but I know God gave us the special gift of this baby…if only for a short while. I believe He is making Tyson and I stronger so that we can be used together as a couple to bring more glory to Himself and that gets me excited. Yes…I will continue to grieve, and I will NEVER forget this moment in our lives, but God is wrapping me up in His arms TIGHT, and I know that He will bring us through this.

We thank you all for your support and love through prayers, email messages, hugs, soup, peach cobbler, etc. May God bless you all for the reflection of His love you have shown us.

Psalm 62:8
Trust in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your hearts to him,
For God is our refuge.

AMEN!
-by Sarah Guthrie


Sarah is the wife of Tyson Guthrie (my youngest son). In addition to being a wonderful wife and daughter-in-law, she is multi-talented. Best of all, Sarah truly has a servant’s heart. She loves to use her gifts and abilities for the Lord. She and Tyson live in Deep River, Iowa, where Tyson in the director of East Iowa Bible Camp. There she uses her organizational and secretarial skills in the camp office and makes all the campers feel warmly welcomed. Tyson and Sarah have been married for seven and a half years, and continue to seek God’s will for them regarding a family. Prior to their pregnancy they were in the process of applying for adoption, but that had to be put on hold, and now they are waiting and praying. I know they would appreciate your prayers. Sarah's blog can be found here: Everybody Here Loves Camp.