Why should we go and tell others about Jesus and His amazing grace? Why is it important that we each do our part of the great commission found in Matthew 28:19-20?  “Go and tell” is a commandment, the last one Jesus gave us before His return to His throne in heaven.  Aren’t pastors and missionaries paid to do this for us?  No, we are all included in that command as Jesus followers.

When I was a teenager, my friends and I took quizzes in magazines that  measured our love aptitude.  I am not sure if we put much value in them, who can remember that far back, but now it makes me chuckle to think of us piled up in a bed giggling and checking boxes.

If we are really going to learn about love, we have to go to the source of love…God. 

Riding in the back of a pickup truck was a frequented event in our town. Being raised in the 1970’s and early 80’s, we knew nothing about seatbelt requirements, or considered it dangerous riding in the back of a truck. On many occasions we rode to and from a local lake to go swimming. Happily seated on the wheel wells or on the flat bottom of the bed, we were off. The thought never entered our mind to jump over the sides of the truck while it was moving.

When I taught math in school, one of the things that bothered me the most was when students did not retain the information or the ability to do problems with processes they had previously “learned.” Thanks to one veteran teacher and others who did an in-service, I learned how to correct that problem (at least with some students!). As the teacher and the other group pointed out, we humans tend to forget something that we don’t continue to use on a regular basis.

“To adjust or correct in accordance with an exact or precise instrument.”

The lovely voice on my vehicle’s GPS does her best to keep me on the straight and narrow road that is set to my desired destination. She takes me around traffic problems which is nice, but she gets rather huffy if I try to take off and get gas or pull in to a Cracker Barrel! Although she has never used the term ‘recalibrate,’ she is very insistent that I make a U-turn or turn right or left at the next street to point me back in the right direction.

Have you ever been totally terrified?  So scared you can’t breathe?  About a week ago my husband was sitting on his four-wheeler at the farm when it caught fire.  He sent me a text with a picture of it in full flame and told me we needed to go shopping for a side-by-side.  He has second degree burns on his leg from the knee to the ankle, but all in all, it could certainly have ended much worse.

2025 is wrapping up.  Something else wrapping up is my goal to read the Bible through this year.  I finished the book of Hebrews today, and only have 8 days left.  Tonight, I decided to listen to my Bible app while walking on the treadmill.  As the narrator read through the Faith Hall of Fame in Hebrews 11, I reflected on my year.  What could be written in my Faith Hall of Fame for 2025?  Two specific things came to mind.

At 84 years old his eyes closed for the last time. That same day his eyes opened to a glorious site he lived longing to see. A couple days later a fitting tribute was sung by his grandson, ‘Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus’. It is a song we have frequently sang in church throughout my life. On this day the song found its way into a deep soft place in my heart. As he sang the last verse, my breathing slowed to meditate on each word.

Holiday season is the time when many of us see family we haven’t seen in months. We had 27 people from 4 generations at the house on Thanksgiving Day. …Distance and busy lives often keep us from visiting people whom we love and would like to see more often. There are times when we lose touch for months or even years.

It has been many months since I have written a blog post for the National WMA.  You see, I’ve had quite a journey starting at the end of June of 2025.  But I serve and love a great God!  A God who heals – Jehovah Rapha.  “Jehovah,” which is derived from the Hebrew word Havah can be translated as “to be,” “to exist,” or “to become known.” The Hebraic translation of Rapha (râpâ) means “to restore” or “to heal.” (I got this from Google).

Jesus did. In fact, in many of Jesus’ encounters with others He would pose a question in response to one they had asked. He asked questions to believers and non-believers both. He asked questions of His closest followers and strangers He had just met. Let’s look at a few.

When the children of Israel crossed over the Jordan river, God instructed Joshua to have 12 men gather stones from the middle of the river and build a memorial to the event on the other side.  When people questioned the stones, they were instructed to tell them of the wonderous thing God had done here.

              I have a memorial in my life.  It is not near as grand as a stone monument but it reminds me of a specific prayer God answered at a time I really needed an answer. 

A lady requested prayer from our group. She said she was spiritually exhausted. Battling a spiritual warfare on behalf of an addicted son had taken it’s toll on her. She came in the room, and looked spent. Looking like she didn’t have much more to give, she knew prayer could give her strength to continue the battle. Those of us in the room loved on her as much as we could. We wanted to offer help. Where do you start when someone feels they are spiritually exhausted?

I sat there shaking my head. My husband asked me what was wrong to which I responded, “It’s those pesky Israelites!” I had been reading through Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Throughout both books the prophets would speak over and again to the people about their idols. They had made idols of silver and gold.  They had carved idols of wood. They had adopted the evil practices of surrounding cultures and performed them in and around the temple.

What was wrong with these people?  Did they not realize they were God’s chosen people, the apple of His eye?

Wounds come in a variety of forms. When we were little girls, my best friend and I cut our palms and rubbed them together. The gesture was done so we could be ‘Blood Sisters’. Our cut was not deep enough to create a lasting scar. My grandpa, on the other hand, was electrocuted as a young father and lost half of his left foot. All my life I saw him walk in custom made shoes. The end of the shoe was cut open, the sole cut in half, and the excess leather folded over and sewn to the sole of the shoe. He walked with a bit of a limp. I imagine the healing of his foot took on many different colors, and it’s certain  the smells that came from it would have turned the toughest stomach. 

I just came in from my morning walk and it was 59 degrees when I started.  That may not mean a lot to most of you, but right now, in East Texas, at 59-degree morning is an unexpected blessing.  We are still bumping 90 during the afternoon, with nightly lows in the high 60s/low 70s.  When I walked out the door, I grabbed my jacket and gladly used it the entire time.

As young girls walking from my grandparents house to the local store in our small town, my best friend and I were stopped by a traveling evangelist as he shared the good news of the gospel. He explained the consequences for anyone who did not accept Jesus as their Savior and Lord. I was reminded hell is real.

I don’t know how many of you may remember the old song, “Excuses, Excuses.” It was the biggest hit of the Kingsmen quartet in 1981. Since I don’t have the rights to print it here, I’ll just try to explain it. The song was about all the excuses that people give to keep from going to church. The same could be said about telling others about Jesus. It seems that we always have excuses. Here’s my “mock off” of the song.

“I’m persuaded that much of our fear, anxiety, discouragement, and hopelessness is the result of bad theology.” - Paul David Tripp, Everyday Gospel

That sentence from a recent devotional study gave me pause. I never thought of myself as having bad theology, but this statement made me realize that any excuse we have for not obeying our Lord’s command to ‘go and tell’ is the result of not truly believing the God of the Bible.

My dad was diagnosed with leukemia in 1994.  He was only 47 years old.  I was 24 and pregnant with our first son.  It came out of nowhere and rocked our world.  God blessed us with 7 more years of ups and downs.  It was not an easy road to walk, especially for my parents, BUT GOD.