Casandra Martin

Today is Memorial Day. It is a day to remember – to allow sacrifice, love, devotion, loyalty, selflessness, and honor deeply impact your heart. It is a day to be thankful, to be humbled, and to let quiet tribute fly in the sky and in our imaginations.

Somewhere today a soldier is walking a perimeter. His eyes scan the horizon, senses alert to the movement of the enemy. With each step, he makes the daily decision to stand in the gap, allowing freedom room to grow and change the world. Pray for him.

Somewhere today a family sits with an empty chair at the table. A father, mother, son, or daughter is on active duty, out of sight, but never out of mind. A wife misses her husband, a mother misses her daughter, and a child misses a parent. Theirs is a silent sacrifice that deserves our honor and recognition. Pray for them.

Somewhere today grieving hearts walk through rows of white and green, reading names until one stops them in their tracks. They remember, holding their hearts in pictures and letters. Pride and pain spill over onto their cheeks. Pray for them.

Somewhere today the Commander in Chief wrestles with decisions that will affect us all. He carries a heavy burden, has to make impossible choices, and lives with the pressing reality that he leads the nation with the greatest blessings and deepest responsibilities on earth. Pray for him.

“Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord…” – Psalm 33:12a

My Jesus Resolution today is to pray. I am going to pray for the soldiers who protect our homeland, for the families who give their hearts in deep service, for the loved ones whose hearts ache and whose cheeks are wet, for leaders who make the heavy decisions about where to stand and how to protect our country. I am going to pray for the people who are gathering today around grills, in backyards, and with friends. I am going to pray for revival and a renewed sense of God’s presence and purpose in our land. Remember today, and pray.

“…the seriously devout Jews of today still giv[e] thanks to God one hundred times a day.” – Ann Voskamp

I was reading – one of my favorite things to do – and came across this observation. One hundred times a day. I stopped and pondered the magnitude of thanksgiving that pours from lips committed to gratitude one hundred times per day. Do I give thanks that much? Could I? Would I?

One hundred times a day seems overwhelming. It would require a focus and dedication that would occupy the mind and the heart throughout the day. I realized that might not be a bad thing. Gratitude instead of grumpiness. Worship in the place of worry. Jesus occupying my thoughts, shaping my words, and sharpening my vision instead of the television, the radio, or my own misshapen perspective. One hundred times per day.

I decided to do the math. Taking out seven hours for sleeping (probably more a dream than a reality), there are seventeen hours left in the day. Giving thanks one hundred times per day would require gratitude to bubble to the surface six times per hour. Once every ten minutes.

How would I be different if I stopped and gave thanks for the blessings I had experienced in the last ten minutes, every ten minutes, all day long?

My Jesus Resolution is to give thanks one hundred times today. It is a risky challenge, living out I Thessalonians 5:17 so literally. “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” I can only imagine how my eyes will be different, how my heart will be softer, how my spirit will be more attuned to His presence, how my worship will be reshaped, how my soul will be transformed. Do I dare give thanks one hundred times a day? Do you? I dare you.

Windows and doors are neat things. Recently, I stayed in a hotel room with no windows. It was a little strange. The bed was comfortable, the room clean, but it was strangely claustrophobic. It was safe, but there was no light. Day and night melted into one another. It was a surprise to find that rain had fallen during our sleep. There was no way to gauge what was going on in the outside world. No avenue for interacting with what was beyond our door.

Every morning, I open our front door. We have a glass door on the front of our house, and I love to open the heavy door and let the light come through the glass as dawn pours itself across the sky.

This morning as I undid the lock and pulled the door open, I realized that each day I must make the same choice about my heart. I can choose to open it to the wonders and vulnerabilities that come from being unguarded or I can keep it closed. Keeping it locked seems safer, but in reality, suffocating. We were meant to live in light, in color, in full engagement with God and His world. When I close the door to my heart, I hold on to control and let my vision, my understanding set my boundaries.

Open is a learning word, a seeing word, a listening word, a transparent word. It challenges me to let God in, to see Him in new ways, to discover Him in the familiar and the ordinary, to make myself available and vulnerable to grace. Open lets Light in.

My Jesus Resolution today is to be open. I want to be open to whatever God has in store for me today. My tendency is to shut the door. To keep it locked. To protect myself and live in the status quo. Jesus says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” (Revelation 3:20a). He doesn’t push His way in, use a pass key, or walk away. He waits, knocks, loves, and woos. How will you open the door of your heart to Jesus today?

I hate computer trouble. I have a technology-impairment. Normally, my computer and I live in an electronic truce – I don’t try anything fancy, and it lets me do the basics. So when my friend’s computer screen went blue, my heart sank. No amount of kind words, offers of chocolate, or threats to kick it to the curb could coax the computer back to life.

Frustration bubbled to the surface. Time ticked on and on as deadlines loomed and the ASAP’s became overdue. My friend called for help. Tech support walked through the steps designed to jumpstart what had died. Nothing. Again. Nothing. A fatal error had lodged itself in the heart of the system.

“We are sending out a new hard drive.” Total replacement was the only answer. Rip out what is broken and start from scratch.

I saw my reflection in the blue screen.

My hard drive is flawed. My heart has a virus, a fatal error that crashes the system. Sin causes the whole of who I am to die. I don’t work right. I can’t compute. I am unable to function in the way the Designer means for me to live. The only answer is to replace the core. The central processing unit of who I am needs to be ripped out and replaced by something new. No amount of reprogramming, alternate software, kind words, or threats will fix the problem. Only taking the “me” hard drive out and replacing it with the heart of Jesus can bring me back to life.

“And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26

My Jesus Resolution today is be thankful for the cross every time I see a computer today. In so many ways, my computer is a mirror of my life. Computers work when they are plugged into the power source. Garbage in/Garbage Out isn’t just about software. I need filters and virus protection on my soul.  And it is what is at the core of a computer that makes it work, fully function, and do all that it is meant to do. The same is true for me. When Jesus is at the center of who I am, there are no more blue screens.

We all ache to be noticed. We long to be seen, known, loved, and valued. Nature, in all of its beauty, humbles us and reminds us that we are small. The world, in all its craziness, treats us like a faceless number, a catalog of needs to be answered and resources to be exploited.

I do the same thing. People become emails to be answered, messages to be returned, demands on my time, and items on a to-do list. It isn’t intentional. Just easier. Easier to check them off rather than look into their eyes, encounter their hurts, and notice.

Jesus noticed. He noticed everybody. He didn’t just notice their damaged limbs, bruised egos, or questioning faith. He didn’t just hear their demands, respond to their questions, or answer their requests for a miracle. He saw their hearts. Noticed their souls. And in the noticing offered grace.

“Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet.” – Luke 8:47a. She had been invisible for twelve years. People didn’t look at her anymore. They looked around her, through her, dismissing her as unclean, unworthy, unwanted, and unloved. Not Jesus. He healed more than the bleeding of her body. He healed the wounds that were bleeding her soul dry. He noticed her. And He notices you. And me.

My Jesus Resolution today is to notice. First, to notice that I cannot go unnoticed. What a banner of love those few words are! He is watching me, seeing me, noticing me. Not just the things about me, but me, me to the core. He knows. He loves. He touches. He heals. Second, to let His noticing spill over into the way I notice others. I want to pay attention. Really see. I am going to call someone and tell them. Give a hug and show them. Send a card and spell it out. Pause, look someone in the face, and see the Godlikeness imprinted on their soul.

We all ache to be noticed. We long to be seen, known, loved, and valued. Nature, in all of its beauty, humbles us and reminds us that we are small. The world, in all its craziness, treats us like a faceless number, a catalog of needs to be answered and resources to be exploited.

I do the same thing. People become emails to be answered, messages to be returned, demands on my time, and items on a to-do list. It isn’t intentional. Just easier. Easier to check them off rather than look into their eyes, encounter their hurts, and notice.

Jesus noticed. He noticed everybody. He didn’t just notice their damaged limbs, bruised egos, or questioning faith. He didn’t just hear their demands, respond to their questions, or answer their requests for a miracle. He saw their hearts. Noticed their souls. And in the noticing offered grace.

“Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet.” – Luke 8:47a. She had been invisible for twelve years. People didn’t look at her anymore. They looked around her, through her, dismissing her as unclean, unworthy, unwanted, and unloved. Not Jesus. He healed more than the bleeding of her body. He healed the wounds that were bleeding her soul dry. He noticed her. And He notices you. And me.

My Jesus Resolution today is to notice. First, to notice that I cannot go unnoticed. What a banner of love those few words are! He is watching me, seeing me, noticing me. Not just the things about me, but me, me to the core. He knows. He loves. He touches. He heals. Second, to let His noticing spill over into the way I notice others. I want to pay attention. Really see. I am going to call someone and tell them. Give a hug and show them. Send a card and spell it out. Pause, look someone in the face, and see the Godlikeness imprinted on their soul.

It was a funny conversation. I was walking into a convention with a woman who was telling me about her dreams. She wants to write a book, and she was describing her efforts to put her thoughts down on paper. I was trying to be encouraging, answering her questions and sharing a little bit of the process I have learned along the way.

I told her that I thought she could do a great job and to keep on writing. She looked at me in horror and explained how messy her manuscripts are. Covered in cross-outs, sectioned by scribbles, and red-lined with bad grammar, she told me that her pages would never be like the clean, flowing writing she reads in my books. I almost started laughing right there.

It takes a whole team of people to put a book together. There are people who check the grammar, who look at the wording, who examine the punctuation, and who make everything look pretty. On my own, I am a mess. One of the most profound lessons I have learned as a writer is that everybody needs an editor.

What is true in the writing world is also true for my soul. On my own, I am a mess. Mistakes cover the pages of my life’s story. Errors, raw places, mismatched choices, and messed up motives misshape my heart. Sin, shame, guilt, and remorse dictate a restless rhythm for my steps.

Everybody needs an Editor. Someone to take out the bad and reshape the good. Someone to filter the focus and clean up the mess. Someone to take our stories and give them a happy ending.

My Jesus Resolution today is to listen to my Editor. Too often, I try to handle it on my own. The plot fails and the storyline comes to a twisted dead end. Thank God for Jesus. He uses His blood to scrub away the messes and mistakes. He applies His love to make the words of my story flow with His light and truth. He works in grace, asks for surrender, and covers the pages with Himself. When I listen to my Editor, others can see something in my story that would never be there if left up to me.

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.