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“In my name they will drive out demons, they will speak new languages. They will pick up serpents [with their hands], and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them. They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Mark 16:17-18

When I read this scripture passage, I envy the disciples. Imagine Jesus giving us the power to cast out demons, speak different languages, pick up lethal things with our hands, drink poison and not get hurt, and touch the sick to make them well?

The more I ponder this passage, however, the more I realize Jesus has given us these powers when He gave us the Great Commission of motherhood.

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As a child, I had such extreme seasonal allergies that the discharge from my eyes overnight would seal my eyelashes shut by morning. I’d have to call out to my mom to bring in a warm cloth to melt and wipe it all away.

For the first time last spring, it happened to my teenage daughter, Jocelyn. Understandably, she was rattled. It’s very unnerving when you wake up with your eyelashes glued together so tightly, you can’t even open your eyes.

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When my son, Zack, was thirteen, he took up whittling. It was amazing to see him cut away chunks of wood to reveal the sculpture he’d envisioned within.

The final step outlined in both the How-To-Whittle book I got him and the YouTube videos he watched was using sandpaper to gently sand away the jagged edges where he’d cut. Doing so was the difference between a rough creation and a refined masterpiece.

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How can you believe, when you accept praise from one another and do not seek the praise that comes from the only God? John 5:44

Gary Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages, explains that each of us gives and receives love in one of five ways: words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, or physical touch. Without even taking the quick online quiz to determine my love language, I knew it was “words of affirmation.”

If it had not been the LORD who was on our side… then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters. Psalm 124: 2-5

I watched a TV series recently about a woman who is the sole survivor of an airplane crash in the middle-of-nowhere Alaska. In the midst of her journey back to civilization, there are several times when she has to cross lakes or raging rivers. There are no other options.

Each time, she’s smart enough to not go it alone. She strategically takes a log with her to stabilize herself as she swims. And when it all gets to be too much, that log becomes a place where she can drape herself and rest.

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I recently had an issue with my teen son that put me over the edge. It was a small thing (him not doing what I asked), but it was the last straw of a much bigger issue that broke my back. I went a bit ballistic!

Leading up to that moment was me investing countless effort and hours helping him resolve a big problem he was facing. I use the word “helping” loosely when referring to his input because he did very little to participate in the solving of it. He also did very little in expressing his gratitude when I finally fixed the issue for good.

The resulting bad equation was: lack of gratitude + ignoring my request = blow my top!

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I live far more by my heart than I do by my head. Most of the time, it works for me. I get deeply invested in whatever I do. When things go right, I’m on Cloud 9!

Things aren’t so great, however, when I’m constantly bombarded by bad news. Headlines in the newspaper, rants on social media, and people who feed into the negativity bruise my heart so much, I feel defeated. It makes me wonder what the point of it all is.

I can only imagine how God must have felt when He looked down at Creation and “saw how great the wickedness of the human race was on the earth (Genesis 6:5).” His heart was so bruised, He was “grieved.”

But then He saw Noah.

Now set your heart and your soul to seek the LORD your God. 1 Chronicles 22:19

At my neighbors’ annual Christmas party, one of the traditions is to look for the pickle hidden in their Christmas tree. Although the “weihnachtsgurke” is said to be a German tradition, there’s some controversy around the legend and where it originated.

The version I like the most is about a German-American soldier who was imprisoned during the Civil War. At the point of starvation, he begged the guard for a pickle before he died. Apparently, that pickle gave him the physical and mental strength to live on.

After searching and searching for that darned pickle at Mike and Ruth’s house, we finally had to give up and move on. The funny thing is, Ruth just texted. When they took their tree down, lo and behold, they found the pickle! It was tucked in the way back, up against the window. It only became visible when they took all the other decorations off and pulled the tree out.

As we start 2024, that story can be a great template for how to approach the new year.