"What counts is your life."

Our one-year Bible reading now has us in Matthew. I saw two beautiful things yesterday. The first was in the Wise Men story. They went on a very costly pilgrimage (probably up to two years) to find and worship the new king whose birth they had discerned by their study of the stars. Then, it says, when they found him they rejoiced, worshiped, gave their gifts, and went back home. What simple, humble people they were, despite their obvious intelligence, learning, and wealth. Rejoice! Worship! Give Him gifts! I loved that thought.

The second was in the preaching of John the Baptist (Matthew 3). He was berating the Pharisees for their hypocritical request for baptism. "What counts is your life. Is it green and blossoming? Because if it's deadwood, it goes on the fire. I'm baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. The real action comes next. The main character in this drama . . . will ignite the kingdom life within you, a fire within you, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He's going to clean house -- make a clean sweep of your lives. He'll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he'll put out with the trash to be burned."

When I say I want to fully live every day of life that God gives me, this is a good way to describe what I have in mind.

A friend in South America asked if I'd include the following in today's blog. I'm happy to do so, even though I already know that most of you are praying this way. So here's her request:

"Might we PRAY MIGHTILY that God will grant WISDOM to Carol's oncologist between now and the Tuesday appointment? We know that those high numbers from her last exam can go back down, if GOD so desires. So let us pray that if there is another chemo formula/treatment that can help Carol, God will REVEAL it her doctor soon. For Carol's best and God's glory."

Your loving comments, notes, emails, and hugs (from local friends) bring tears to my eyes. Healing tears. I can't find words to express my gratitude. It's humbling too. I know that many of you are enduring various kinds of pain far worse than my struggles thus far. (I have NO physical pain; isn't that a gift?)

Love,
Carol