Category: the Spirit of God

Palm Sunday (the day after)

Jane Carlile Baker, Author, Editor, Teaching ConsultantLeave a comment
two brown donkeys
Photo by chris carroll on Pexels.com

So, I’m a country girl, and I noticed a few things about the donkey Jesus rode into Jerusalem a couple thousand years ago yesterday. I’m also reading Suzy Flory and Patrick Barrett’s book, Sanctuary, but that’s only loosely related, as it’s about a donkey sanctuary that saved a man. Anyway …

We country people know a few things about domesticated animals. This would explain why I noticed Jesus specifically asked for a colt that had never been ridden. Now, that could be about purity to go along with His humility, though I’m not sure. However, I am sure I wouldn’t choose an unridden donkey colt for a parade mount. If you’ve ever ridden a green horse, a calf, a donkey colt, or a bucking bronc, you know they all enjoy introducing their riders to the dirt, face first. So what? So, Jesus not only controlled oceans and seas, wind, demons, disease and most of the time the Pharisees, he also could ride a donkey colt right out of the chute, so to speak.

But that’s not all. I also noticed the disciples covered the donkey’s back with their cloaks before they put Jesus on him. Now that could mean recognizing Jesus’s royalty. Could be, but … I’ve ridden quite a few horses bareback. Let me just say it doesn’t take long before horse sweat seeping through your jeans onto your inner thigh begins to chafe. I imagine denim and cloak cloth are about the same, and I believe the disciples were looking out for their Messiah. Way to go, boys!

And finally, you’ve heard the joke about the farmer driving his donkey to market. The donkey balked and the farmer hit him in the head with a two by four. It got him going, but the farmer’s wife yelled, “Hey, don’t hit our donkey with a two by four. We need the dude.” The farmer said, “That’s one.” They went on a ways and the donkey balked again. The farmer let him have it in the previous manner. The wife … never mind, I forgot the punch line. But you get the point that donkeys balk. But you didn’t read anything about Jesus’s donkey balking on the way into Jerusalem, did you? Even with all the Hosanna hullabaloo the crowds were making. Moral of my story: (I’m not certain there is one.) It might be that even donkeys can experience the peace of God that passes all understanding. Have a peaceful Holy Week! Um, and I didn’t just compare you to a donkey, honest. Might not be all that bad, though. There was one who could see an angel in the Old Testament.

Politics and Religion

Jane Carlile Baker, Author, Editor, Teaching Consultant2 Comments

I grew up listening to people argue politics and religion while they said it’s okay to talk about anything except politics and religion. Neither one is worth arguing about, and here’s why I think so.

Just to lighten up the conversation.

Religion always turns out to be man’s twisted interpretation of what God thinks. Whether you’re talking Judaism, Catholicism, Protestantism, Muslims or whatever. Politics also has the drawback of being dependent upon the interpretations of men. So getting your undies in a twist about either is useless.

A much better plan is to find out about God and apply what you find only to your own life. That should make such a drastic change that people will notice. When they ask what changed, tell them what you found out and how you apply it. Sounds simple, but it’s life-changing and takes a lifetime. And for me, it’s a wild ride. (You’re welcome for one of the world’s shortest blogs.)

Merry Christmas!

Jane Carlile Baker, Author, Editor, Teaching Consultant1 Comment

I can’t let Toenail Fungus be my last post for 2019, so I’m thinking about Jesus.

nativity scene christmas decor

He was God and with God until the Holy Spirit planted Him in Mary’s womb. I wonder if He knew in there. Did He know He was love? Did He remember the swimming around after He was born? Did He remember hearing the whispers as she walked about Nazareth? Did He remember coming from Heaven?

Or what about Joseph and Mary? They’re both your regular old garden variety people trying to live the lives God gave them. And then Gabriel appears. I slow down from wrapping presents and picture that. A glowing stranger standing in my house or inhabiting my dream. I wonder if Mary reached for a handy weapon or just sank to the floor, shaking. I wonder if she started thinking hard about what she’d learned of the Messiah. Could this really be happening, right now? In her town? To her? And then he was gone. Wait, did that just happen? Now what? Talk about walking with God. Did she hustle right down to the synagogue and ask the rabbi to haul out the scrolls?

I wonder what travelling from Nazareth to Bethlehem was like nearly nine months pregnant. Not by plane, but by donkey. I haven’t ridden a donkey, but I’ve ridden a horse, even pregnant. It’s okay, for a little while, but not for miles. Did she get off and walk just for a break, and then get back on when she got too tired? Was she thinking about how the Rabbi said He’d be born in the City of David, or by this time was she wondering if she’d eaten  the wrong thing for dinner, or whether Joseph and Elizabeth had joined her in some kind of insanity? Did God encourage her through those days?

Did she think, “I knew it couldn’t be me who’d mother the Savior,” when the innkeeper put them up in the stable? “Surely, God wouldn’t allow His Son to be born in a barn.”

Or what if I were one of those shepherds? I’m beating the bushes looking for a lamb who’s bleating his head off when the night sky lights up with singing angels. Dude, what is up? I crouch behind a tree. Just because they’re singing doesn’t mean I’m not in trouble. My buddies are caught in the open, and the angels tell them to find a newborn baby lying in a cow manger in a barn. Say what? But I heard it with my own ears. We drive the sheep up the road to Bethlehem, through the town, drawing people to their windows to shew us out. But we’re on a mission. There’s light in a cave just outside town. We stop the sheep just outside and hear a baby cry. Must be the right place. We creep up without words and look in. Look in … your turn.

 

Grace and Truth

Jane Carlile Baker, Author, Editor, Teaching Consultant2 Comments

I have held many incorrect assumptions about grace and truth. For instance, I believed at one point that telling the truth was wrong in many cirumstances because it hurt people’s feelings. On the other hand, I thought it was a percentage then between grace and truth, like if you have 80% truth, then you have 20% grace.

So, I have been studying the relationship between the two because I suspect that what I’ve thought is incorrect, but I haven’t know how. Here’s what I’ve found so far. I think we can figure out our boundaries using a combination of grace and truth. I believe we don’t have grace without truth or truth without grace. I believe it is loving to speak the truth with grace.

I’m working on this for myself and for the next novel I’m going to write, Queen of the Third Grade. I think the prep work will take a while, but I’m excited. My guide is Jesus, full of grace and truth.

white swan
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Resolutions, bah humbug!

Jane Carlile Baker, Author, Editor, Teaching ConsultantLeave a comment

Have you heard the saying, “Want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans?” So what’s He laughing about? Our inability to do what we know we ought to? Maybe. Our inabilty to consider the rocks we may encounter in our paths? Maybe. Our inabilty … Maybe.

On the other hand, have you heard the saying, “You aim at nothing, that’s what you’ll hit?” I think that thought pattern may be where New Year’s Resolutions came from. You may think, based on the title of this blog, I’m one of those slugs who parks on the couch, moving only to replenish the potato chips. I’m not. Unfortunately, I’m seriously goal- oriented, sometimes to the exclusion of actively loving the people I’m supposed to love. Can you relate?

I’m actually this odd conglomeration of motivation and laziness. Some days I find myself puffing because I focused so hard on what I wanted to get done that I paid no attention to my body crying for rest. Other days I’m weary, and I don’t care what doesn’t get done. Some days I’m committed to losing the ten pounds I gained during the holidays, and others I don’t understand why calories have to count or my body needs exercise. One thing I’m sure of, I’m tired of guilt based on whatever.

What’s a person to do?

Build our houses on the rock – Jesus. Let Him share our yokes. Follow Him. Stop orbitting ourselves, since we are unable to plot the course anyway. Sunday school language, you say? What does it really mean? Guilt should be like a cop’s ligths in the rear view mirror. When we feel it, we’ve started doing our own things again. So we stop the action. We hunker down and pray,  which doesn’t mean we do all the talking. We listen, and His small voice will plot us a course correction. Or we pull out the Word, find a word in the back that matches what’s bugging us, and flip around until the words give us His answer. Yep, simple, but marvelous at the same time. Here’s a way better saying: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.” Prov. 3:5-6 So, who needs resolutions?