LifeLink Devotional

Thursday, December 3, 2020

As more and more people rose on Christmas Eve and Grandma got busy helping them all find breakfast, I suddenly realized why I had gotten up so early. I needed a flashlight so I could open the door behind my bed and investigate the attic. I just had to see what was in there. I went looking for my grandpa to ask him for a flashlight. He was seated in the dining room finishing his breakfast.

“Grandpa, I need a flashlight.”

“Why?” Grandpa was a man of few words, but I have never in my life met a man who so closely matched my interests. Some interests and skills are definitely inherited.

“I need to open the door behind my bed and see what’s in the attic.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Grandpa was not mean. He did not say it with anger, but I felt the force of his words. And yet, I wanted to know more.

“Why not,” I said gently.

“Because last summer we found two nests of bees in there. It’s warm enough today that they might be active. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I had never seen a beehive, so I asked him if he could show me. He politely declined. The subject was dropped. I ran back to the kitchen to get some more food from grandma.

Fast forward six months to the following summer. My family is again visiting my grandparents in Cleveland. My brothers and I are assigned to the attic bedroom for sleeping. Once again the attic door is behind my pillow. As I crawled into bed, I remembered what my grandpa had said about bees. I was scared again. I searched everywhere I could see to make sure there were no cracks or holes where the bees could enter our bedroom. Finding none, I laid down and tried to sleep.

Two thoughts kept running through my mind: were there bees in there that could hurt me while I slept, and tomorrow, with permission, I’m going in there. I fell asleep with a mixture of fear and the excitement of conquering. I would discover later in life that the mixture of those two emotions is produced by risk, and that I like risk.

I remember thinking about the Bible story of David and Goliath. The Israelite army focused only on the fear side of risk. They were immobilized by it. But not David. He saw the risk and felt the fear but allowed the excitement of conquering to rule his choices. Add to that the fact that God was with David, and the fear factor was reduced to insignificance, and David became the conqueror of Goliath.

I believe God used that night to teach me a life lesson. I have discovered throughout my life that in Christ God is ALWAYS with me (Immanuel), so I have nothing to fear. I am motivated by the excitement of conquering.

Go ahead, take the risk if God has directed it. You can be a conqueror too.

Pastor John

LifeLink Devotional
Wednesday, December 2, 2020

When I woke up in the morning, I was excited for my adventure. I was going to explore
the attic behind the closed door. I knew I would need a flashlight, so I rushed downstairs
to find one. I have always been a morning person, but on this Christmas Eve I had risen
exceptionally early. There in the kitchen I found my grandmother Alice. She was working
on several different food projects for the family Christmas Eve dinner. She immediately
took an interest in me and showed me what she was doing. I quickly forgot about the
flashlight.

On the stove was a kettle that looked very different from anything I had ever seen.
Grandma explained to me that it was a double-boiler. There was water in the bottom
section of the pot. In the top section she was preparing to put several cups of whole
rice along with a couple of quarts of heavy cream. The rice would simmer in the cream
all day, heated by the steam from the boiling water below. She was making the
Gabrielson traditional Norwegian Yulegret. Now I have looked all over the internet and I
cannot find that word anywhere, but that’s what grandma called it. I remember my
Uncle Al calling it “You’ll regret.” My first taste of it would come that evening.

On the kitchen island counter there were three large lumps of bread dough; two white
and one wheat. As I would soon learn, grandma made the BEST bread ever. One white
loaf would be special. It would be the Gabrielson tradition Norwegian Yulekaka, a fruit
bread with powdered sugar frosting. It would be eaten with the Yulegret. I stood for
what seemed like hours watching grandma knead those lumps of dough over and over
and over. My mom told me many years later that the secret to grandma’s bread was in
how long she kneaded it.

The third item on the counter by the sink was a large beef roast for lunch. It was in the
final preparation stage for the oven. Grandma took a break from kneading and
grabbed a sharp knife. She sliced off a thin piece of the seasoned meat and handed it
to me. She explained that this was her tradition. Everything else she did was for the
Gabrielson Norwegians. Grandma was a Meinke, straight from Germany, and she
taught me to enjoy raw beef.

Soon there were others in the kitchen demanding breakfast. I felt I had already had
mine, consisting of raw bread dough and raw beef. My grandma looked at me with a
stern look, and I knew immediately I was not to talk about what we had eaten. It was
our secret. She then winked at me and told me how much she enjoyed my company.
So while grandma kneaded bread, she showed me how much she needed me. I
cherish those memories of great food. But what I cherish most is time I spent with her. I
felt valued, not because she gave me treats, but because she gave me herself.
Without even knowing it (or maybe she did) she laid a foundation in my life that my
value does not come from the treats God gives me, but from giving me Himself. It is my
relationship with Jesus that qualifies me as an eternal child of God.

Grandma is with Jesus today. I wish I could tell her thank-you for raw beef, raw bread
dough, and cream-boiled rice. But I would thank her most for showing Jesus to me by
giving her attention to a six-year old boy.

Pastor John

LifeLink Devotional

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

I am going to take a big risk. It’s a big risk for me because I like to plan things out. I like to know that when I start something I will be able to finish it, and I like to have a completion date scheduled. I am going to start a series of devotionals today that will hopefully lead us into Christmas. The theme is going to be “Favorite Christmas Memories.” The problem is that I don’t know if I can come up with enough personal stories to get us all the way to Christmas. So to help me, would you mind sharing with me some favorite Christmas memories that I can use to complete my project?

Let’s Begin. I remember large parts of this story, but I have added other details that are probably true based on my knowledge of who I am.

I don’t ever remember a Christmas without an emphasis on Jesus as God’s gift of love to us. My earliest memories of Christmas are centered in Cleveland, Ohio at my maternal grandparent’s home. It was a small brick house with two stories plus a third story attic that was partially finished where I and my two brothers would sleep. At the head of my bed was a small door that led into the unfinished part of the attic. 

I remember the first night I slept in that bed. I was six years old. I was terrified. My two brothers were across this small room, but I never felt so alone and so scared. My imagination ran wild with thoughts of what was behind the door next to my pillow. I dove under the blankets. I cried with fear. My mom came to my rescue. She sat down on the edge of the bed and assured me that I was not alone.

I looked over at my brothers, and wondered what help they would be to me if a monster truly came out of the door. My mom noticed my fear, and began to explain to me the meaning of the word Immanuel. She quoted Matthew 1:23 to me. 

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us).

She told me that Jesus is Immanuel. She reminded me of the decision she had helped me with one year earlier when I repented of my sin and confessed that I believed in Jesus as my Savior and received God’s forgiveness of my sin. She told me that because I had believed in Jesus, He had come to live in me in the power of the Holy Spirit. She told me that Immanuel was always with me, so I had nothing to fear.

After she left the room, I looked at that door, and decided that in the morning I would go in there and see for myself if there was anything to fear. Suddenly my fear that kept me from sleeping became excitement for an adventure, which also kept me from sleeping. But the fear was gone. I completely trusted what my mom had told me about Jesus. I understood the peace that comes from personally knowing Immanuel. I have always remembered that God is with us because He sent Himself to live with us and die for us so He could live in us. God is not only with me, but He is in me. What have I to fear?

Pastor John