All posts by Rebecca Qualls

If you give a mouse a cookie…

On Faith, ,

You know that cute little children’s book? A simple act of giving a mouse a cookie turns into something way bigger and unexpected. I’ve never given a mouse a cookie. It makes an adorable children’s book but frankly, I have no intention of willingly giving a mouse anything except a bit of “d-CON.”

But it makes me think…what would I do? What if I gave God permission?

It’s a beautiful afternoon. Sitting beside a quiet brook and listening to the birds chirp. Communing with God. All is right with the world. In a moment of rapture, you tell God that He can have His way. You give Him permission to orchestrate your life as He sees fit.

Something occurs in that enchanted moment. Unseen and relatively unnoticed. A covenant is made. Not a contract signed with ink but a contract signed by the blood of the Lamb on the flesh of your own heart.

I have needed to be reminded lately, that I indeed gave God permission. My peaceful has been replaced by chaos. The world is upside down and inside out. The wheels have fallen off the bus and I can’t even find them to reattach them. “What is going on?” I wonder, often out loud like a crazy person.

And then I hear this…

“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. (John 6:67 NIV)

In other words, “When things don’t happen like you think they should, are you out?”

The world stops. A question has been asked and it demands an answer.

Am I out? But He has never disappointed. Over and over He has taken the broken trinkets and  baubles I seem to keep collecting. He takes the heartache and confusion that seem pointless. And then, He uses them to create something I could have never imagined. He incorporates every part into something that has value. A piece of art that proclaims with abandon that He alone is God. That He alone creates and He alone redeems.

I stop looking for the bus wheels and I give Him permission again. Well said Peter.

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:68-69)

 

The first…

On Writing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Look. I’m blogging! I’m a blogger!”

My first blog on my new website. I feel like I should have something profound to share. A pearl of wisdom or wit that may change the course of your day.

Instead, I struggle to come up with the perfect words to commemorate this endeavor. And maybe it’s better that way. This way you see the real me from the start. Wisdom and wit may find it’s way into this blog, God willing. But the truth of the matter is I’m just a mom, struggling to be a writer. And some days, I feel like a writer struggling to be a mom. And some days, I’m just struggling.

I guess that leaves me with baby steps as a valid option. I’ll start here, with this first step and keep taking baby steps. Funny though. I keep thinking that I’m in charge of where I end up. Come to find out, right now, I’m only responsible for the first step.

So here it is. My first…baby step.

 

 

 

What am I doing here?

On Faith, , ,

Prison cell

Did Joseph ever forsake the dreams and visions of his youth? There he sits, in a jail cell in Egypt. Being sold into slavery was bad enough but to then be thrown into prison unjustly? I wonder if there were any conversations like this…

“OK God. Just checking to see if you got my new address? I’m pretty sure you knew I was no longer in my father’s house. Thanks for sparing my life by the way. Trying to keep perspective. But the most recent event is the transfer from Potifer’s house to prison. Just making sure you have my current info.”

“Joseph, I’m right here.”

“Right. Well, since we don’t have anywhere to be can I ask you something?”

“Yup.”

Joseph sits on the hard dirt floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. His focus stays on the ant scurrying past. He smirks. Even the lowly ant may come and go as he pleases.

“Remember those dreams I used to have? The sheaves of wheat bow down. Those ones. Remember?”

“Of course.”

Joseph waits for the Creator of the Universe to say more. The ant changes direction and God remains silent.

“Uh, can we talk about those?”

“What about them?”

“Well, I just mean this is about as far away from those as possible.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Really?” Joseph tries to keep his voice in check. The frustration mingles with anger but he cannot forget to whom he is speaking. “All right.” He sighs. “Could you at least let me know what to expect next?”

“I already have. That’s what the dreams are about.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” He bounds to his feet.

“I get that it doesn’t make sense to you. But it makes perfect sense to me.”

“Wait a sec.” Joseph stops pacing and faces the stone wall. “Are you telling me those dreams are going to be fulfilled?”

“Yeah. Why not? Yes, Joseph you are in prison. Do you think I looked away for one minute and the plan got away from me? Let me ask you something.” Joseph braces himself for a question from the mouth whose very spoken word hung the stars in the sky. “Did I go too far?”, he wonders.

“Do you think I would give you a dream and not prepare you for it? Do you think you were ready to see those dreams fulfilled while you were still a teenager and a daddy’s boy?”

The force of God’s questions puts Joseph back on the dirt. He cradles his head in his hands and tears stain the red packed earth. He braces himself for the lecture from the Almighty.

But God is silent. In the void of conversation, a warmth falls over Joseph’s shoulders. His breathing evens and the chisled lines of the cell walls blur. A weightless sensation envelopes him as the presence of God surrounds and supports him. Comforting. Sustaining. Solid.

Are you someplace you thought you’d never be wondering how you got there?

And then the Great I Am speaks.

“I am with you always. Do not worry about the dreams or how they will come to pass. Focus on Me. The One who will never leave you. And trust Me that I am still at work.”