Culture & Literature
Mornings with Jesus

Mornings with Jesus November/December 2019

Experience this devotional magazine that blesses you with Jesus' words, His teachings, and His Wisdom. This inspiring magazine will help you begin and end your day connected to Jesus.

United States
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6 Issues

in this issue

1 min.
a note from the editor

ON SATURDAYS OUR CHURCH runs a soup kitchen where we feed about 200 people, giving them a hot meal and some groceries to take home. I’m not much of a cook so I set and reset the tables, fetch coffee and greet the guests. A sort of glorified busboy. Maybe because of my experience as a singing waiter in college days I like to go through a repertoire of favorite songs, and if I’m lucky, the guests sing along. “Amazing Grace” is always a hit, as is “God Bless America” and of course carols at Christmastime, but when we’ve got kids at the tables I launch into “This Little Light of Mine.” A three-year-old girl who comes often joins in as we exclaim about our respective lights: “Let it shine, let…

2 min.
friday, november 1

ONE OF THE HARDEST COMMANDMENTS of Jesus, for me, is the order to forgive. Anything. Anyone. Seventy times seven. But how do we do this when whatever wrong we’ve suffered is raw—and our feelings still fresh? Worse yet, probably, when the other person isn’t sorry? Corrie ten Boom helped me with this when she wrote, “Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart.” I think the idea here is that we can separate our feelings from our wills—and sometimes we must. I tend to want to feel whatever I’m doing. To feel love when I’m supposed to be loving. To feel compassion when I’m supposed to be kind. To feel bold when I need to be brave. And it’s nice…

2 min.
saturday, november 2

YEARS BEFORE SHE DIED, I noticed my mom was more forgetful than normal. I’d ask her about common things, and she’d struggle to give me an answer. Or, when she did, her answers were obtuse, loopy, or just plain wrong. Then I found out the truth. What I had feared was now confirmed: Mom had dementia. Some days, she was clear as a bell, talking, laughing, and joking just as she always did. Then other days she became combative, accusatory, and cursed up a storm. It was tough to witness. I prayed. I became sad. Where is my mother? This woman can’t be her. Over time, I saw her get increasingly worse, just as the doctors had predicted. My brother John turned down work to be with her because he knew her…

1 min.
sunday, november 3

MY HUSBAND, LARRY, AND I consider praying together for our children and grandchildren as one of our most important ministries. Every morning, we lift their names to Jesus. One morning we used Joshua 6 and the destruction of Jericho as a prayer principle. After crossing over the Jordan River, Joshua and the Israelites faced the city of Jericho. This large city, fortified with high walls, formed a huge barrier to conquering the land God had promised them. But Joshua obeyed the Lord’s instructions. The army marched around the city once a day for six days. On the seventh day, they circled seven times. On the last round, as the priests blasted their trumpets, all shouted simultaneously. At that moment, the walls collapsed. Our grandkids were entering adolescence, so they would face walls…

1 min.
monday, november 4

MY SON PIERCE’S FIRST FLORIDA basketball season was wonderful. The coach was a longtime resident and former local star, a seasoned pro who skillfully affirmed the kids, bringing out their best. He and Pierce built a nice rapport, and we looked forward to having the same coach next season. But when the draft came around, Pierce was picked by another coach, who was just plain different than his beloved first coach. Seeing Pierce’s disappointment, I tried hard to conceal my own, urging him to keep an open mind and reminding him that he’d have a lot of different coaches over time. Still, Pierce was sad and anxious about the change. As the season went on, I made a point to avoid the subject, not wanting to pick a scab. Finally, a few…

1 min.
tuesday, november 5

YEARS AGO, WHEN I LIVED in Alaska, I knew a man named Joel. Joel was a funny, smart young man in his early twenties with Down syndrome. Joel was the kind of person you could talk to about a wide range of subjects. We loved playing cards together and laughing. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, but was also open-hearted and nonjudgmental. If a friend was crying, he would put an arm around his buddy and have him laughing soon enough. One time, we were at an event and a local politician gave the kind of speech we’ve all heard before. He was saying all the right things, thanking all the right people, and making all the right promises. Joel got anxious and said loudly to me, “I…