How to Make Your Wife Submit

Here’s what happened the other morning. I spoke with a relative who lives out of state. She had concerns about how her ex-husband treated her verbally. They’re trying to reconcile, but she said he drills her with, “Wives submit to your husband.” (Ephesians 5:22)

I said, “That’s true, a wife should submit, but he needs to look at another factor.” The Bible says, “Husbands love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5:25)

So, that’s how it works? Of course. Wasn’t it love, kindness, and the gentleness of Jesus that brought us all to submit to Him? If Jesus spoke derogatorily to any of us, or the husband, as the head of the family, we would respond in a negative way. Jesus stands as a model that we can emulate.

The command is there for us all. Galatians 5:1-2 says, “Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

What about this love, denoted by the Greek word Agapao or Agape? These words “are used in the N.T. (a) to describe the attitude of God toward His Son, John 17:26; the human race, generally, John 3:16; Rom 5:8; and to such as believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, particularly, John 14:21; (b) to convey His will to His children concerning their attitude one toward another; John 13:34; and toward all men, 1 Thes. 3:12; 1 Cor. 16:14; 2 Pet. 1:7; (c) to express the essential nature of God, 1 John 4:8.”[1]

What about submission? The word Hupotasso is a Greek military term meaning “to arrange [troop divisions] in a military fashion under the command of a leader.” In non-military use, it was “a voluntary attitude of giving in, cooperating, assuming responsibility, and carrying a burden.”

We’re all to walk in the way of love but scriptural harmony begins with the husband because he is the leader of the family.  That’s how you make your wife submit.

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[1] W. E. Vine, The Expanded Vine’s Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words, pgs. 692-693

Mopping the Floor with Your Words

Mopsy

This is Mopsy, a special friend. My cousin Raymond’s wife, Sylvia, put her together. Before, Mopsy hung around in a store, just being a mop. Sylvia, who lived in Alaska at the time, put her talents to work, and fashioned something pretty out of nothing.

I’m partial to Mopsy, because Sylvia gave her to my mother. Mom took her to California, and Mopsy adorned her bed for a long time. Before Mom passed away this year, she gave Mopsy to me.

           Mopsy’s here to help illustrate the scripture in Galatians 6:9– “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

            God is putting us together; however, we may look like Mopsy before she was finished, a plain and simple old mop, if we faint, become utterly spiritless or exhausted, before we reach the goal He has for our life.

            Sometimes things can seem upside-down. It can be filled with raising families; working jobs, volunteering at church. Sometimes it can be filled with nothing. Either way, we can become weary, and faint.    

            So, what do we do? We can look to examples of those who could have become exhauted.

• Noah, could have grown weary building that massive ark. Can you imagine, living at the top of a mountain building a boat, with no water around? It took him 100 years to build. If it wasn’t for his tenacity, noone and nothing would be here. Not even rainbows.
• Abraham stood in faith waiting 25 years for what usually takes nine months. His faith produced a Father of many nations.
• Joseph certainly could have given up. The tribe of Jacob may have been destroyed if it wasn’t for him. His faithfulness saved his family, Israel, and the Messianic line.

Our greatest example is Jesus. He persevered through crucifixion. You may say, “Well, others were crucified.” Yes, but they deserved it.

          When we’re at our point of exhaustion and feel like we’re mopping the floor with our words, we need to push forward. We’ll reach our reward if we employ what these champion examples did–if we exercise tenacity, as Noah; faith, as Abraham; faithfulness, like Joseph. If we look forward to His purpose and vision for our life as Jesus did, we’ll overcome.

         What will you be if you give up and what effect will it have on those around you? Faint not. Let God finish fashioning  your life. Mopsy didn’t turn out bad.

We Don’t Even Have to Say it Out Loud

Marvels abound. Technologies work wonders all around us; in the workplace, the entertainment world, and in our homes, where millions have the capability of electronically reproducing documents, via printers, copiers, faxes, and may become impatient if it isn’t accomplished within seconds.

There’s another marvel, not correlated to electronics. At least not in the way we would imagine. Our brain. It too reacts with split-second impulses, faster than electronic devices. I’m not going to attempt to cover the function of the human mind. That would take volumes.

The process I want to talk about is prayer. Most likely, the majority of people who pray do so quietly. They utter requests silently within the core of their mind, in their inner being. It may be a few words or it may be heartfelt torrents of appeals. What I find marvelous is, we don’t even have to say it out loud.

We could, if we wanted to, but we don’t have to. Somehow, the God of the Universe, the Majestic King and Creator of this earth and the cosmos that surrounds us, hears.

I thought about this today. Sending electronics signals becomes microscopic in comparison to un-verbalized prayer. How many telepathed messages travel through the galaxy in the time it takes to send a document to a printer? In how many languages? As a Christian, we’re taught Jesus is “in” us when we receive Him. Maybe that’s how He does it. It’s still wondrous.

As the anniversary of September 11 approaches, it comforts me to know that every person who called out to God through Jesus, went to Him. “All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out.” (John 6:37) And they didn’t even have to say it out loud.

What Was On Your Parents’ Beach?

Playa Del Carmen, Mexico--Photo by Terri Michel, All Rights Reserved

Like a series of waves, life tumbles upon the beach of our souls.

Surging and ebbing, trials and tribulations wash ashore. But what do we allow to stay behind?

We can glean analogies of struggles and tangled masses of seaweed, or the debris of unforgiveness lying about. We all need to keep our coast clean, so to speak. However, this morning I thought about something else.

It’s not Mother’s or Father’s Day, but nevertheless I thought about my parents. I remembered a specific occurrence that took place, which changed the course of my life. Then an undercurrent pulled me to another direction, and I thought about–them.

What upsurge took place in their lives? What did they endure? Did they encounter sorrow because of the death of a loved one; did they receive shame because they were fired from a job? Were they able to withstand temptation, or did they ever feel they weren’t loved?

These events can occur, but my parents didn’t share what washed upon the beach of their lives. However, realizing they must have received a multitude of pounding undulations throughout the years gave me a different perspective of who they were; their frailties, and mine.

My question today to you is, what was on your parents’ beach?

Was it Because the Man Died, or Was it Something Else?

According to an old poem, boys are made of “snips and snails, and puppy dog tails.” Originally, the poem was thought as written as “snips of snails,” a more descriptive term of a tough exterior. Regardless, boys, and men, are tougher than the opposite sex and don’t weep easily. The question is, when will a man cry?

This man wept at the death of his friend. Was it because of his passing, or something else?

He was out of town when he received a message from the ailing gentleman’s sisters. “Your buddy is failing–fast.”

He pondered the communication and said, “He’ll be alright. This isn’t catastrophic,” and remained in town with the others. After a couple of days, he announced unexpectedly, “Let’s go to the city.”

One of his colleagues rebutted, “But you know they’re after you. Will you endanger your own life?”

He answered, “There are only so many hours of daylight. If I work in the day, I won’t stumble, because I have the light. Besides, our friend is asleep, and I need to awaken him.”

“That’s good he’s resting.”

He shook his head slightly from side to side. “You don’t understand. He’s dead, but I’m glad, for your sake, so that you’ll believe.”

The others were confused. How could he have died? Didn’t he say he wouldn’t?

“Well, let’s join him,” one of them replied, “So that we can die.”

They arrived and found a funeral. His colleague had been dead four days. Traditionally, people believed a person’s soul remained with its body three days, seeking an opportunity to return. These were called the days of weeping. Decomposition set in on the fourth day, and they thought, It’s too late.

He received reprisal from both sisters. “If you had only been here,” they said, “This wouldn’t have happened.”

Men are resilient and scarcely will a man cry. Hardly more the Son of God.

Jesus groaned within, moved with anger, and wept.

Did he shed tears because of the man’s passing, or was it something else?

(John 11:1-35).

Small Beginnings

Josie Johnson (Rivera) 1936

On August 7, 1914 at six in the morning, a child’s wail announced the arrival of my mother, Josefina Rivera.

Her mother had given birth to seven children, one of which died, but families didn’t talk about life, and death back then.

Mom was five when her mother, in her early thirties, became ill. The great plague of influenza in 1918-1919 killed more people than WWI. Mom could not remember what her mother looked like. She had photos of her mother’s sister, aunt Maria, but only a vague memory of a woman with a long dress standing before her.

Her mother’s funeral was thrust to her subconscious, but she remembered a carriage, flat with large wheels, carrying a wooden coffin, and the noise of the wheels clacking on the road. Her father, Manuel, never remarried.

Afterward, they found a room provided by a church group to live in. It was empty and stark. Manuel and his six children, ranging from ages eleven to one-years-old, stayed until they found a place of their own. Food was another problem, as Mom remembered lying, hungry.

The teacher at school had a little girl, who was sick. She wanted Mom to keep her company, and so she went to their house and watched a pale young girl, ailing in her bed.  Afterward, they gave Mom something to eat. She sat down, wide-eyed with a wonderful meal before her. Two of Mom’s sisters came to the house. Mom couldn’t eat in front of them.

“Can I share this with my sisters?”

The cook looked at her sibling’s vagrant eyes. “No.”

Mom didn’t eat anything until they left, and then managed only a little bit.

One day, Mom excitedly raised her hand to volunteer to pick up the hot chocolate provided for the school children. She went to the house, but the servant wasn’t finished. She walked to the window, which had a rail around it, and put her leg in the rail.

“Venga,” the woman called to Mom to come.

Mom tried to move, but her leg was stuck. They called someone to help. The man said, “The only way we can help her is to cut her leg.”

He was kidding, but she was petrified.  He cut the rail and freed her after he saw how much it terrified her.

A small beginning in San Sebastian, Puerto Rico, where life was meager at first, but which gave rise to a life that would last ninety-six years. Happy Mother’s Day Mom.

Did God Ever Eat Chocolate?

Photo made available by Wikipedia Commons

There are days I eat the little morsels, and days I don’t. Sometimes, when I’m a little depressed, I’ll eat more than I should. Today I wondered, did God ever eat chocolate?

You know, when things go yay, yay, and everything’s all right, I don’t think about those sweet, brown pieces of tan objects so much. Then, there are times of nay, nay; disappointments and people letting me down, and, well, you know what happens.

What about God? When we let Him down, how does He feel?

Historically, the Israelites rejected their rescuer. I googled the computer about the number of times. One answer said at least fifteen to twenty. It seems like many more, but rejecting the Creator of mankind once may be considered once too many.

Adam and Eve rejected Him in the garden. They chose their own way instead of His. The Israelites rejected Him after He delivered them from Egypt when they made the golden calf. Numerous times thereafter Israel worshiped the gods around them. It seems it was an easy pitfall.

The first commandment says, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” They managed to worship at least thirty-five various idols throughout history. I would categorize this as a major disappointment to God. But what did He do?

As saddened as He was, He didn’t eat chocolate. Instead, He sent His son to die.

I need to remember the depth of His long-suffering when I’m disheartened. I think it will help stay my hand from chocolate–and depression. I hope it will help you too.

Poor Little Rich Man

Sycamore Tree-Photo by Mason Brock

You never know what you’ll find if you look up.

Jesus navigated His way through Jericho, which lay below sea-level, on his way to Jerusalem that day.

He reached a ninety-foot high sycamore tree. From the oldest of families and native to Egypt, the sycamore produced figs and the wood was used for Egyptian coffins, lasting as long as 3,000 years. Its patches of creamy white and reddish brown bark beamed in the sun, and Jesus squinted as he gazed at the large leaves sporting promising flower buds.

Then He saw him.

He said, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down here. I must abide at your house today.”

The short statured man scuttled along the tree limbs, swung his body against the trunk, and slid safely to the ground. A large grin bedecked his face as he gratefully grasped Jesus’ hand.

He was the head tax collector in Jericho and a rich man. Others knew him to be a sinner and considered him no better than a thief, who would steal a man’s sheep. Jesus wasn’t concerned with his sin or material possessions, but of the destitute condition of his spirit.

He followed Zacchaeus to his home. The rooms were large and servants spilled into the entry to receive the one called Master.

They sat at a large table; Zacchaeus’ wife, children and the disciples, and partook of a welcomed meal. Finally, Zacchaeus couldn’t bear it any longer, and leapt to his feet.

“Lord!”

Jesus calmly reflected his face. “Yes, Zacchaeus?”

“The half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I’ve taken anything from any man by false claims, I restore it to him fourfold.”

He replied, “Today spiritual salvation has come to all the members of this household. Those who belong to the religious groups looked down on you as if you weren’t as much a Jew as they, but I say to you, you are also a son of Abraham, and I have come to save that which was lost.”

Jesus had looked into the tree and found a poor, little rich man. Because He spent time with the man, He would leave him spiritually transformed–changing the poor little rich man into a rich little rich man.

What can, or has He done for you?

The SON Also Rose

Before the sun rose, the SON rose.

Early in the morning, before light infused the dark of night, a great earthquake resounded. Fear gripped the keepers at the grave site, and they ran into the night.

At daylight, many discovered an empty tomb. Among them, Mary Magdalene, the other Mary,[1] Joanna,[2] and Salome. They had rushed to the sepulcher with sweet-smelling spices to anoint Jesus’ body. John and Peter also saw the vacant site, as well as linen cloths, lying there, and a burial napkin that was around Jesus’ head, rolled up, sitting separate.

The women returned with an account of seeing angels and the Master. Some of the disciples didn’t believe and thought they had gone mad.

Jesus appeared to the eleven apostles as they gathered together in the mountains for a meal. He scolded them for their lack of faith and hardness of heart, because they had refused to believe. Then He told them, “Go into all the world and preach and publish openly the good news, the Gospel, to every creature. He who believes and is baptized will be saved from the penalty of eternal death; but he who does not believe will be condemned.”

He appeared also to two disciples on their way to Emmaus, a village seven miles northwest of Jerusalem. One of them, named Cleopas,[3] conversed with Jesus without realizing who He was. Some go through life that way today, but Jesus sat and broke bread with them and they recognized Him.

In all, Jesus appeared to over five hundred in twelve separate episodes, providing eyewitness testimony.

May your Easter be filled with the knowledge of the risen Son.

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[1]Or Maria, Wife of Cleopas and sister of Mary, the Mother of Jesus

[2] Wife of Chuza, the steward of Herod and a disciple of Jesus

[3] This may be Cleopas, Maria’s husband, which would make him brother-in-law to Mary, the Mother of Jesus

Remember When You Can’t Sleep

 Jesus would not sleep that night.  He and His disciples had gone out to the Garden of Gethsemane, and after He wrestled alone, morning approached. But the torture would just have begun.

A mob drew near, and Judas, as everyone knows, betrayed Jesus with a kiss, feigning affection for the One he had given up.

Simon Peter raised his sword, attempting to protect, and cut off Malchus’ ear. Jesus’ last healing would be that of restoration to His enemy.

Caiaphas, the high priest, held a mock trial, treating the Son as a criminal. He was the first of four to see Jesus throughout the early morning. At daylight, when dawn broke through the dark hours, a multitude led Him bound from Caiaphas to Pontius Pilate, the governor.

The governor would declare he found no fault in Him and would send Him to Herod, where He was questioned, mocked, and given a robe. Herod returned Him back to Pilate, who thought if he punished Jesus, he could let Him go. He took Jesus and scourged Him, whipping Him in the Roman manner, which was more brutal than the Jewish. Pilate hoped to appease their cry for blood, but those who were blind to Jesus’ deity and love cried out for Him to be crucified.

That was the plan.

Lack of sleep has a fee. How Jesus suffered humiliation and excruciating pain without rest is unimaginable.

Many have given much to society but none has ever given as much as Jesus. He came as a child, began His ministry at the age of thirty in accordance with the Jewish law, and cared for all for three years, knowing He would be slaughtered. His reason? To provide forgiveness.

My restless nights will never total this night of horror. Something to remember when I can’t sleep.

WARNING: This video is GRAPHIC.