Casandra Martin

I honked my horn. I would like to tell you that I did it because of my concern for the safety and well-being of the other driver, but it wasn’t like that. I was in a hurry. I was rushing from one deadline to another appointment, and was impatient. The light turned green and the other driver didn’t move. I waited for a moment and still no forward motion. Finally, I honked my horn. The look she gave me wasn’t one of thankful appreciation.

I shrugged my shoulders and set my sights on reaching my destination. Still in front of me, the other driver matched the turns I was planning on taking. We seemed to be heading in the same direction. With big eyes, I watched her turn into the parking lot of my destination. All of the sudden, I felt a little ashamed.

I got out of my car, and so did she. We both walked into the shop. She wouldn’t even look my direction. No chance for a pleasant conversation. No opportunity to offer a blessing or extend grace. My impatience had closed a door that I didn’t even realize might be open.

Too many times, I forget that little moves can have a big impact. Small kindnesses can reveal deep love. A whispered word can shout compassion. An extended hand can point to open arms. The opposite is true as well. A moment of complaining feeds a discontent spirit. A thoughtless word punctures someone’s fragile hope. A second of impatience closes the door to someone’s heart.

My Jesus Resolution today is to count the cost. There is a cost in choosing to look like Jesus. It may require obedience, surrender, sacrifice, or setting down my own desires. But there is also a cost in choosing not to look like Jesus. My soul loses the opportunity to walk in His steps and catch a deeper glimpse of His heart. Another may see my behavior and not see Jesus at all.

Today is Star Wars Day. It is a play on the date May 4^th – May the Force be with you. We love Star Wars at our house. The classic movies tell the story of Luke Skywalker and his travels into another world. It is a world filled with adventure, unusual characters, challenges, struggles, and friendship. In this galaxy far, far away, Luke’s story mirrors the journey we all take to discover who we are and our place in the universe.

In many ways, Star Wars is a story about discovering and choosing your identity. Luke Skywalker is ripped from the home he has always known and confronted with the truth that there is more to his life than he could imagine. From the beginning, Star Wars is a movie about becoming and the choices that we make to get there. Every step of the way, Luke has to decide whether to take the easy path or the right path, to follow the way of the Force or the Dark Side.

One of the climatic moments in Star Wars happens when Luke discovers that the evil Darth Vader is really his father. In that revelation, Luke has a choice – follow in his father’s steps or choose his own destiny. Luke chooses light over darkness, saves the galaxy, and learns that good does triumph over evil.

Our stories will never be played out on the big screen, but the choices we make are even more dramatic. Like Luke, life gives us a choice about identity. Who do we want to be? The world calls us into the shadows, encouraging us to choose our own paths, to live within the confines it sets up for us, to make life what we can make of it. God calls us to live a life grounded in His reality. It is a bigger, more daring, more adventurous life than we could ever dream of for ourselves. It requires a leap of faith, surrender of all we are, and the willingness to be more than we could imagine on our own.

My Jesus Resolution today is to be who God wants me to be. He is willing to work in me to shape my identity and make me His own. I want to make the right choice. I want to live His adventure. I am willing to leave what is comfortable in order to be conformed into His likeness. Who do you want to be? The choice is yours. May the Lord be with you.

It was the sweetest sound. I knew her family would be fretting about the little noises the baby was making, but it was perfect. They were seated on the row behind us during worship. It was time for the Lord’s Supper. Quiet settled over the room as hearts prepared to meet Jesus around His table. That is when I heard her.

She is just a few weeks old. Snuggled in loving arms, I wish that I could have seen her sweet face, but all I heard was the sound of little lips on the bottle. Taking my own nourishment from the Bread of Life, I closed my eyes and listened. Her dependence, her trust, and her contentment to be held in the arms of love all spoke a powerful message to my heart.

I want to be just like her.

Her innocence calls me to the purity and holiness of a sinless Savior. Her utter reliance on those around her challenges me to let go of the pieces of my heart I still try to control. I want to be as thirsty for the Living Water as she is for her bottle. I long to drink deeply, satisfying my soul on the nourishment that comes straight from His grace. Nestled in the strong, protective arms of her family, her sweet gurgles of contentment make me examine where I find refreshment. I want to rest in arms that long to hold me close.

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:4)

My Jesus Resolution today is to follow her example. This little one taught me a lesson. Only a few weeks old and she is pointing the way to Jesus. Too often, families worry about bringing their children into worship, but children have the ability to light the way to the cross. Even in their wiggles, whispers, giggles, and stubborn moments. They are physical pictures of my growing faith. They show me who I am, what I can be, and how to be more like Jesus by becoming more childlike.

I was a visitor. I sat in the unfamiliar pew, taking in the worship that flowed around me and through me. The minister finished his comments and the congregation moved to wrap up the time of surrender, praise, and encouragement. As a final reminder, the preacher challenged us to take two questions with us into our week. Who will you love today? Who will you serve today?

It has been several days now since I heard his voice, and still his questions are resonating through my heart. They are brilliant questions. God-shaped questions. Questions capable of focusing our eyes, directing our steps, and strengthening our resolve. They challenge me to be specific about walking in the footsteps of Jesus.

Who will you love today? Be concrete. Think of a name. Picture a face. How will you wrap God’s affection around someone’s heart today? What will they know about Jesus and His amazing love because you met them on the way today?

Who will you serve today? Be specific. Make a plan. Search for a need. Who will feel the touch of Christ’s hands on their life today because you reached out? How will you leave the fragrance of His nearness in someone’s path today?

We know that Jesus calls us to love and to serve, but too often they become vague, generalized instructions without a tangible focus. These two questions give Christ’s call a face and purpose.

My Jesus Resolution today is to ask and answer these two questions. I want to ask them both in the morning and at night. I want them to shape my prayers and open my eyes as I begin my day. Who will I love today? Who will I serve? I want to deliberately search out specific opportunities to love somebody and serve another in His name. In the evening, I want the answers to fuel my thanksgiving and help me trace His fingerprints on my day. Whom did I love? Whom did I serve? I am going to ask myself two questions today. In their answers, I will learn to see Jesus.

My spoon froze in mid-air. Reading my Bible, the apostles and I are walking with Jesus through the Gospels every morning at breakfast. As I reach for the next bite, they make a request that captures my attention. “Increase our faith!” they ask in Luke 17:5. I stop in mid-sentence, my heart beating a little faster at their boldness. That is what I want too. I long for more faith, a deeper understanding, and a greater desire and resolve to be like Jesus. How does Jesus answer this cry for more?

My eyes tumble back across the page, holding my breath as I listen to Jesus’ answer. “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you.’” (Luke 17:6)

I sat there puzzled. It wasn’t the answer I anticipated or, very honestly, even wanted. I expected a to-do list – pray more, study harder, follow closer, pay attention. Too often, I treat faith like a commodity to be traded and acquired. I do more and God gives me more. The greater my spiritual investment, the bigger my faith return.

Instead Jesus fingers the leaves of a mulberry tree and uses its branches to pierce my heart. I don’t need bigger faith. I need to understand the power of the big God in whom I have faith. I don’t need an increase in my spiritual assets. I need bigger eyes and a more dependent heart. The muscle and might of faith isn’t found in its size, but in the way we surrender it to the Savior.

My Jesus Resolution today is hold a seed in my hand. Seeds are planted. All of the might of an oak tree is packed into an acorn. All of the fruitfulness of an apple tree is held in an apple seed. Instead of looking for something bigger, I want Him to plant His seed deeper. I want its tendrils to poke through my doubt, wind its way into my worry, and root itself in the reality of His grace. Faith increases not because we stockpile it for a rainy day, but when we exercise it and let it grow in the sunshine of His love.

I live a blind life. I don’t want to, but too often I do. I miss beauty and ignore grace. I fail to see the threads of glory woven into the tapestry of my days. Every day, I am witness to miracles unfolding before me, but my stubborn eyes refuse to open. Busyness, selfishness, and weariness all restrict my vision and make me blind.

When someone is physically blind, there are remarkable stories of the other senses being heightened. With spiritual blindness, the opposite is true. When we don’t see, our sensitivity to the presence and power of God is dulled and muted. We miss blessings, choke off joy, and live full of worry rather than worship.

“And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” And stopping, Jesus called to them and said, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, let our eyes be opened.’” – Matthew 20:30, 32

Imagine the moment. They ask Jesus for sight. They long to experience the richness of a world guided by vision, permeated by light, and full of color. They cry out to the Savior, and He stops to touch their eyes. When Jesus opens their eyes, what is the first thing they see? His face.

My Jesus Resolution today is to learn from the blind men. I want Jesus to touch my eyes. Their cry needs to be my daily prayer. Let my eyes be opened. Help me see. I don’t want to miss anything. I want my vision to be filled with His face, to witness the glory He plants in my moments, to utter thanksgiving for the ordinary miracles that fill up my days. Today I want to stagger in light so piercing that I have to blink in wide-eyed wonder as mercy fills my vision. I want to open my eyes and see His face everywhere I look.

The Celts have a tradition that heaven and earth are only three feet apart, but in the thin places the distance is even smaller. Thin places are spots where the threads between heaven and now are stretched and sheer, allowing us to catch of glimpse of God’s glory. They are the moments when we catch our breath in wonder, and experience the grace-filled reality that fills the other side.

There are thin places in nature. Places of such intense, raw beauty that we can’t help but cover our mouths and stare. Awe makes us rub our eyes as we soak in the splendor of a vista that boldly, persistently proclaims the majesty of God. These are places where it is hard to leave, to tear our eyes away from the truth that God is in this place. We walk away humbled, eyes wide open, our sense of how we fit into the universe realigned. Thin places.

There are thin places in time. Moments when we feel God’s presence in an almost tangible way. Some of these are times of vivid, overwhelming joy. Others are marked by the intensity of grief or pain. Sometimes it is a quiet whisper that catches our ear, encouraging us to stop and pay attention. These thin places in time come like a streak of lightning, illuminating, for just a moment, a different reality than what we usually see. Thin places.

Sometimes thin places are found in people. Someone who shows you Jesus, extends grace, offers a hand, reminds you that you are loved, or helps you take the next step. In watching them walk with God, we catch a glimpse of His face, hear His voice, or feel His love. Spending time with them leaves us both hungry and satisfied. With them, we have moved a little closer to heaven, hearing angel wings. Thin places.

My Jesus Resolution today is to look for a thin place. I am convinced that they permeate our world. Places where we are allowed to see glory, witness majesty, experience beauty, and let heaven touch the here and now. The thinnest place of all is found on a hillside planted with three crosses. The one in the middle holds back the fabric of earth and invites us to peer from this world into the one beyond.

My daughter is graduating in a few days. She is in the process of finishing up the unfinished, tying up the loose ends, and preparing for the opportunities that are ahead. She put the final touches on a project that recapped her area of study even as she began to knock on doors, answer interview questions, and imagine a life beyond school. She is doing great. I’ve been holding my breath.

I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath. We have prayed, encouraged, loved, cried, laughed, and prayed some more over the last several weeks. We committed ourselves to putting her in God’s hand, to waiting on His timing, and following His lead. There have been ups and downs, disappointments, excitement, sparks of confidence, and seeds of doubt. Trusting became a full time job.

And then I started breathing again. Settling in with my Bible over my morning yogurt, I read words that soothed my soul and breathed fresh life into my tired lungs. “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” – Matthew 7:9-11.

How much more… Those words changed the rhythm of my prayers. I love my daughter with mom-sized love. He loves her with God-stretched passion. I am on her side. He is constantly by her side. I am willing to give my life for her. He already did that. Setting her in God’s hands means opening our hearts to the truth that whatever unfolds, whatever doors open or close, whatever path is revealed, it will be His very best. Gifts tailor-made for her heart and her walk with Him.

My Jesus Resolution today is to rest in His how much more. I can breathe, knowing that I can trust Him with even this most precious of gifts. How much more speaks to the immensity of His love, the depth of His faithfulness, the intensity of His grace, and the intimacy of His presence. How much more challenges me to open my eyes a little wider, walk a little closer, pray a little more fervently, bow a little more humbly, and praise Him a little more intensely. How much more allows anticipation rather than anxiety to fill my soul.

Today is the anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. In 1775, the Boston silversmith set out on a journey that would take him across the countryside and into history. His mission was to warn the American militia about the advance of the British army. He arranged for a signal to be given about the movement of the British troops. One lantern would hang in the steeple of the Old North Church if the British were moving across land. Two lanterns would alert the patriots that the British were coming by sea.

On the evening of April 18, 1775, word came to Revere that the British were moving by sea. He traveled under the cover of darkness to warn independence fighters. His timely message helped set the stage for the Revolutionary War and the birth of freedom.

Revere’s watchfulness and commitment to alerting his countrymen remind us of a valuable lesson. We need each other. We need to stay alert and be ready. We need to be watchful both for the movement of God and the attacks of the enemy.

It is difficult to stay attentive on our own. We get tired, distracted, weary, and busy. We need each other to help us see what is easy to miss. Sometimes it is hard to trace the fingerprints of God. Pain or despair cloud our vision. Others can help us see His movement in our lives and find His fingerprints on our day. In other moments, we need someone to alert us to the prowling of the enemy. He seeks those he can catch off guard. When we stand by each other, we minimize the vulnerability that springs up when we try to go it on our own.

My Jesus Resolution today is to be ready. I am going to take a lesson from Paul Revere and keep my eyes open. I am going to pay attention and invest myself in freedom. I will give myself to shining a light in the darkness if the enemy gets too close. I am going to align myself with others who long to live in dependence on God and commit myself to remaining alert for His presence.

Nobody really looks forward to Tax Day, except perhaps accountants who look forward to it being over. Taxes are necessary to maintain a government purposed with upholding the common good. We pay our taxes this week with honesty and integrity in submission to God, recognizing that it gives us the opportunity to pray for those who will make decisions regarding the money and how it is spent.

Tax Day has been coming around for centuries. It is on one such day that Jesus uses taxes to teach us a valuable lesson about what we owe and who has a claim on our lives.

Enemies of Jesus decided to use Tax Day to trap Jesus. They developed a question about paying taxes to Rome to test Jesus. An answer in favor of Rome would enflame the disfavor of the people. An answer advising avoiding taxes would bring the wrath of Rome down on His head.

Jesus listened to their question and examined their hearts. He requested a coin and asked about the image engraved on its shiny surface. As they pointed to Caesar’s image on the coin, Jesus pointed to their hearts. “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” – Mark 12:17

Paying taxes is appropriate. Presidents have their pictures on our money. Give them what is due. God wants something more valuable and more encompassing. God has stamped His image on our souls. Give Him what bears His image.

My Jesus Resolution today is to pay my taxes – all of them. As I file my taxes, I will see the amounts on the different lines as evidence of my blessings. I will also examine my heart. Money is just money. It doesn’t have God’s image on it. My heart does. Have I given it fully to Him? Is there some part that I am holding back as my own? Have I answered the full claim He has on my life? Today I will pay the government what I owe and put my heart in God’s hands, giving Him everything I am.