Shooting Ourselves in the Feet? -- Janet Sketchley

God came to Balaam and asked, "Who are these men with you?"

Balaam said to God, "Balak son of Zippor, king of Moab, sent me this message: 'A people that has come out of Egypt covers the face of the land. Now come and put a curse on them for me. Perhaps then I will be able to fight them and drive them away.'"

But God said to Balaam, "Do not go with them. You must not put a curse on those people, because they are blessed."
Numbers 22:9-12, NIV*

The people in question were the Israelites, en route to the promised land. For three chapters (22,23,24) the enemy King Balak tries to get Balaam to curse them, but God will not allow them to be cursed.

They are God’s people, and He chooses to bless them.

Then in one chapter (25)—actually verses 1-3 are enough—Israel causes its own trouble.

For me, this is a startling glimpse of God’s perspective. He wanted to do so much for and with His chosen people. He protected them from their enemies, was leading them to a spacious and rich land... and they did the enemies’ job for them!

I wonder what He wants to do in our lives that we’re preventing?

*New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica.

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

HACKED by Glynis M. Belec

Today, I spent the day with my daughter. It was unplanned and actually not a very nice reason for me to be at her home. But I had to be there. My grown up baby girl needed her Mom.

I'll back track a little. I was awakened this morning by the shrill ringing of the telephone. My morning voice probably gave away the secret that although it was almost 7am I was still tucked nicely 'twixt the blankets.

Once I realized who it was - a mom of one of my students - I relaxed. That was, until I heard what she had to say. Apparently, she received a heartfelt e-mail from my daughter who was supposedly in the UK and had been robbed. 'She' was asking for money and had sent an e-mail to this mom, who she knows fairly well.

I was slightly confused for a moment until I realized that my daughter was certainly not in the UK and it was her facebook account that had been compromised. She was about to discover what it meant to be hacked.

So the day happened. I got in touch with my daughter right away. She was in tears when I first talked to her. It seems this creepy individual was asking for money from whichever contact he/she could. He was almost successful a few times. I immediately went onto Facebook to see what was going on and that sad individual who was hacking my daughter's computer, had the nerve to strike up a chat with me. I couldn't believe the audacity. I played along for a while. Needless to say, I lost it in the end and revealed that the gig was up and I knew he was some sort of a hacker intent on committing a cyber crime. He disappeared when I mentioned the police. Just like that...gone.

One would have thought that I scared the pathetic person. But the day continued and so did the telephone calls to Amanda and me, checking to see if this was a legitimate request. The hacker did not scare easily and continued to try his luck. Some almost sent money to the suggested bank in the UK but decided to check first. Thank goodness that people called us before succumbing to this request. My daughter has an online, business, too and she was afraid that this numbskull was messing with her clients and all her contact information.

I ended up staying with my daughter for the day, keeping her little ones entertained as she dealt with the police and the myriad of calls that came her way. I also wanted to pray with her, to let her know that although right now she feels upset and frustrated, this will pass. This hacker thinks he has all the power. Little does he know that there is Someone mightier and He is Power and Glory forever and ever!

Technology is a wonderful tool if used wisely and done so with integrity.

As I drove home a little while ago, I contemplated what makes a person commit a crime. Why do people hurt other people? What is it about money and power that cause a person to stop at nothing?

Can't people understand what a beautiful world we would live in if we showed more love; realized the joy in the simple things; desired everlasting peace, had more patience with one another; saw kindness as the best medicine; showed goodness to our neighbour; displayed faithfulness to our family and God; treated one another with the gentleness of Jesus and showed self control in the face of temptation. Can we only imagine?

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Galatians 5:22

Sin.

"Surely the arm of the LORD is not too short to save, nor His ear too dull to hear," says Isaiah 59: 1-2. "But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden His face from you, so that He will not hear."

A Critique Group? - Gwen Mathieu

Last Fall I started a writer’s critique group. We meet in the Fireside room at our church twice a month. There have been up to four Inscribe members attending along with three non-members.

A critique group has many advantages. One is a chance to build new “writer” friendships. We have a great time over a cup of coffee, laughing and kidding each other but sometimes we are brought close to tears; our emotions bounce back and forth depending on what we are listening to. Even yesterday, I became indignant with a character, in one of the stories read, for being so cruel.

Another benefit of belonging to a group is the discipline it demands. If you tend to be a sporadic writer, like I am, then a group will keep you at the keyboard. Our group spurs me on to edit a few poems and articles I started earlier, to move on with the historical novel I started over eight years ago or to come up with something fresh and just plain write.
Another asset is the encouragement we receive from each other; to hang in there and use the gift God has given us.

A real plus in belonging to a critique group is our listening skills become sharpened and our writing skills are honed. We each come with a teachable spirit and leave with more insight in the craft of writing. A lot of times, as we read aloud, we pick up on the errors before they are pointed out by others. We are challenged to write, to improve, to perfect, to learn.

So, all I can say is, join a critique group!

Stretching - M. Laycock

The Yukon autumn was sliding into winter as my friends and I sipped coffee and stared out the window of our warm log home at the heavy frost on the ground. The conversation turned to the subject of wood. Firewood. We all admitted our woodpiles weren’t quite as high as they could be. We all knew what minus 60 was like, that our stoves would deplete the store of fuel in no time.

Then Anne mentioned a local sawmill was giving away slab wood. The slabs were mostly bark with only an inch or two of wood, but they were dry and made great kindling. Enough of them would be a welcome and needed addition to the stock of wood in our yards. But we also knew our husbands’ jobs left no daylight hours to haul wood.

It was Barb who said, “So it’s up to us.” I was the last to agree. I knew how heavy our chainsaw was, having run it once or twice. The idea of spending a whole day running it didn’t appeal to me. But my friends assured me we could do it. Barb rented the truck; Anne packed the lunch; I brought the coffee and snacks. And I prayed.

A few days later I found myself staring at our saw as my husband sharpened the chain and explained how to avoid stalling it. For most of that night I considered how I might get out of this adventure, but the next day the first crack of light found me and my two friends stacking slabs on the deck of a five-ton truck.

As the pile grew, we took turns climbing on top to trim the ends on the far side. My arms, already aching from tossing the slabs, shook as I leaned over and tried not to think of falling off with a roaring chainsaw in my hands. But the pile slowly grew until the three of us, dirty, exhausted, but smiling, stood back and surveyed the stack of wood, piled as high as it could go on the back of that five-ton.

The sun was setting and the temperature dropping as we drove home. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on our husbands’ faces when we arrived with that load of wood. The knowledge that we had made a significant contribution to the comfort of our families that winter made all of us smile. The episode had been a stretch for me, but the accomplishment made me realize with the Lord’s help I was capable of more than I had thought. It felt good.

I once heard a challenging sermon about stretching. “It’s in stretching that faith grows,” the pastor said. “It’s in stretching that we learn to rely on God’s grace.”

Stretching your faith might mean letting go of something you’ve been worrying about. It might mean reconciling with someone who has offended you. It might just mean attending a Bible study group for the first time. It might mean writing a poem or an article even though you’re a fiction writer. It might mean starting that first novel, or hitting the send button to put your words out there for the world to read.

Maybe you’re thinking the same thoughts I did the night before my wood hauling expedition – “I don’t think I can do it.” Maybe you’re right, but God’s grace can do it through you. So pray. Then go ahead and stretch.