Oh, My God

Something has been bothering me lately. Actually it has been bothering me for a while. Maybe I have been watching too many episodes of American Idol or So You Think You Can Boogie.

Why is that so many people feel a need to punctuate conversation with cries of "Oh My God" -which is not said for any praiseworthy reason nor is it intended to call attention to the mighty works of the Lord? No holy awe here, folks. Only self absorbed blasphemy in my books. Social networking sites aren't any better either. They too, sport the typical OMG acronym more often than not.

I am no prude, yet I am thinking that taking the Lord's name in vain in this manner is saturating society and we hardly even bat an eyelash.

Well, you know what they say...if you can't beat 'em - join 'em. So, yes. That is what I will do. I will spend a portion of my day and include Oh, My God in my vocabulary starting right now. I sure know I have a million reasons in my life to say Oh, My God!

In fact, I am going to share ten of those reasons right here.

1. Oh, my God! How wonderful you are. You created me in my mother's womb and made me in a really cool way. I could never do that, even if I had the smarts.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:14

2. Oh, my God! I survived cancer. I cannot thank you enough for giving me more days. I sure wasn't finished having grandbabies or writing my stories or being a good wife or organizing my cupboards.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

3. Oh, my God! I watched two of my beautiful grandchildren being born. How can anyone doubt Who you are and what a miracle is.

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

4.Oh, my God! You sent Jesus, knowing He would be rejected and persecuted and would die a horrible death on the cross. How you must love us.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Isaiah 53:3

5.Oh, my God! Your power in nature is breathtaking. I plant a tiny seed and within a few months I am eating food that will nourish and sustain. My God - how do you do that?

So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. 1Corinthians 3:7

6.Oh, my God! I do not understand natural disaster. I wonder if I was a Haitian soul, would I be shaking my fist at You or would I be rejoicing as some of those God fearing people are? I really cannot comprehend why You allow this to happen, but I know that I don't need to. You are in control. My God, who am I to question? But thanks for letting me, all the same.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8

7.Oh, my God! When I think of all the beautiful people you have put in my path, I rejoice. I don't think I do it often enough, though. So thanks God for friends who say hello through e-mails, letters, phone calls, visits. I need to stop and smell the roses more often.

A friend loves at all times...Proverbs 17:17

8.Oh, my God! I have failed you. You have given me so much. I demand more. You have forgiven me over and over again. I still make poor choices. I bow my head in prayer and then I get on with my day and forget what you whispered to my heart.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

9.Oh, my God! How I marvel at people like Mother Theresa, and Billy Graham and ordinary people who tread in the name of Jesus where others fear to tread. Give me half their courage and allow me to get my light out from under the bushel.

In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16

10.Oh, my God! For you, my God so loved this crazy mixed up, foul mouthed, power consuming, war-mongering world that you sent your only Son, Jesus, so that we may not perish but have that life that goes on and on forever. What, by the way my God, is forever? You have promised us eternal life with Jesus. Can I even fathom what that means? That thought seems too lofty. I am unworthy, yet you invite me to know you personally. Show me more, Lord. I cannot wait. But I will. Because, my God, it is all about You and Your perfect timing.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

I Thank you Oh, My God!

Where is God in Haiti? -- Janet Sketchley

It doesn’t take a tragedy on the magnitude of the one in Haiti to get people asking “Where was God?” and “Why did He let this happen?”

I’m sure God doesn’t mind honest questions. He knows us, knows our finite understanding and the troubles that are too deep to articulate. I’m equally sure He does not appreciate it when we set ourselves up as His judges, especially since we don’t have all the information.

Whatever our circumstances, it’s worth asking “Where are You, God? What do You want me to learn?” Another good question is “What do You want to do through me?”

Where is God in Haiti? He’s giving strength to the relief workers, whether they recognize it or not. He’s giving courage to the suffering, if they’ll receive it. He’s shining brightest through the people who are in relationship with Him, who can listen to and rely on His Spirit.

Someone called Jesus “God with skin on” and that’s what Christians are to be: the visible means through which God works to touch the world and to show who He really is. Being human, we fail more often than we succeed, but as long as we’re obedient to Him and relying on Him, people can see the difference.

God is in the details, the personal experiences. He had people in place to help physically, and others already praying even though they didn’t know why.

I spoke with a woman who’d been invited to visit Haiti this January. She and her husband sensed it wasn’t the time. They were in Canada, safe, during the earthquake, and God used her as a voice here for the mission there. An email from one of the mission leaders said a voice told him not to leave the shaking building but to shelter under a desk. The rubble at the exit proves he would have died.

On another mission team, one member felt the need to cut short his time and return home. From Canada, he too was able to pray and to be of service. The rest of his team survived the quake and provided support until they had to leave.

God was in the finding of the 15-day old baby, alive after a week in the rubble. In the elderly woman found under the ruined cathedral, who sang so that rescuers could find her. And in the deaths of so many, including the Canadian nurse who’d just arrived to volunteer. I don’t understand, but I trust His character enough to know He can take all this brokenness and make something beautiful.

If we let Him. He won’t push past our defences any more than He would suspend the natural forces that caused the devastation.

We’re all inundated with opportunities to give to Haiti relief. If for some reason you’ve held off but now think it’s time, here are some links that might interest you:

Hands Across The Sea (HATS) orphanage and school in Deschappelles, Haiti.

Cup of Cold Water Click on the “earthquake relief” tab for updates from Haiti: news of the ministry compound (including orphanage) in Vignier, Haiti, and of relief efforts.

Canadian Baptist Ministries Click “emergency relief” and then “Haiti earthquake”.

World Vision

© Janet Sketchley, 2010
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For devotionals, reviews and conversation, stop by Janet Sketchley's blog, God with Us: Finding Joy.

Lesson from A Hornbill - M. Laycock

The tropical sun beamed down as I peered outside. Banana palms swayed in a grove by the river and the incessant sound of insects filled my ears. A pile of wet clothes lay in a basket at my feet. I looked at the long line stretched to the far end of the yard, then peeked up. No sign of clouds yet, but I knew if I didn’t hang the clothes to dry soon, I would likely have to run out to gather them as the first spits of rain fell. The rains came every day to that part of Papua New Guinea.

So did my neighbour’s pet. I scanned the trees around the house. No sign of him. Maybe he wouldn’t show up today. I hefted the basket and stepped into the yard. I was about half way along the line when the raucous sound tore through the still air. A rush of wing made me duck and my heart raced. I groaned as the huge Hornbill landed a few feet away, tilting his oversized head to peer at me, his blinking eye seeming to say, “Gotcha again!”

Every time I ventured out to hang up the laundry, that bird descended and gave me a fright. Our neighbours had brought the Hornbill home when they discovered it had been injured. Once he was well, the odd creature seemed to delight in being around people. I know it loved to watch me hang up my laundry. Sometimes I would forget it was there until it made a swoop over my head. Then the adrenaline rush would catch me again. A friend has described the sound a Hornbill makes in flight as a helicopter with asthma. It’s an apt description. Apparently the bird is missing a few pinions in its huge wings, so when it flies, the noise is loud and constant.

As I watched that strange and rather ugly bird that day, I realized its lack wasn’t a mistake. It was God’s design. Perhaps the noise the bird’s wings make has some purpose necessary to its survival. Or perhaps the Hornbill is one of God’s object lessons. Every time he takes flight, he announces his lack. There are many around us who do the same. We look at them as slightly “less than,” whether maimed physically, mentally or socially. We pity their weakness, or worse, we condemn them for it.

God sees weakness in a different light. In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul describes his “thorn in the flesh,” and explains – “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”” Paul was left to struggle with his “thorn,” and as he struggled he grew in an understanding of God’s grace.

Not all of us are like that Hornbill, whose weakness is obvious. Some of us are able to hide ours very well. But whether our struggles are obvious or not, God is waiting to supply what we need to deal with them, all to His glory. His grace is sufficient.

Why I don't write -- Kimberley Payne

Sometimes I fight writing. I know I have a great idea and I’ve even started it inside my mind, but I put the brakes on. I don’t want to transfer it to paper because I’m afraid that if I start and then am interrupted by the telephone, or by a child’s cry, or by the dryer’s buzzer I fear that I may lose it altogether.

Instead of starting, I keep it inside to protect and nurture it until the timing is right to let it loose. But have I lost ideas entirely because of this? I don’t know. I can’t remember. Perhaps blissfully I lose ideas but is this better than knowingly losing ideas?

I’ve never chanced starting to write knowing that I had only 30 minutes to get my idea down. I’ve never risked it. I’m too afraid that if I let the idea loose without completing it, well then, I’d lose it forever.

I don’t know if I could pick up where I had left off. I don’t know if I could get myself back into that frame of mind.

I feel like I move in spurts. There is a period of incubation and formulation. The thought is tossed and turned and moulded in my mind. Then the moment comes where the idea bursts forward and splatters in ink on my paper. I cannot stop it and it runs like a locomotive fiercely out of my mind onto the page.

But as the ink dries, the idea dies out. The writer is spent. And once spent, I return to incubation.

Do I unleash the train before it’s ready? Do I dare ever proceed or yank the brake cord just as the train gathers speed?

This is my dilemma as a writer. Do I take my opportunities as they come up, or wait for the ideal moment? Do I write regardless or steal those moments to luxuriate in reading?

As I pose these questions to myself, I already know the answer. A writer writes.

No more excuses. No hiding behind reading. A writer writes when the ideas are there. And when the ideas are not there. A writer writes through the incubation and into the inspiration. A writer writes.