MIn our age of instant gratification––courtesy of credit cards, Instagram, and Amazon Prime, just to name a few––waiting has become a source of irritation for many of us. And yet there are still times we have to wait. And when we do, we need to remind ourselves that God has control of the clock.

I know a young couple who have now been married for eight years. They have long desired to start their own family, but despite all science had to offer, God’s answer seemed to be an emphatic no. The baby they wanted to hold, the little girl to cherish, the little boy to embrace, all seemed out of their reach.  

They turned to fostering to adopt, agreed to accept siblings and placed no restrictions on race,  and still the days and months passed. Paperwork, Interviews, inspections turned into disappointment, frustration, wonder. Why wouldn’t God want them to have a family?

Finally, this past year, the call came.

Why did they have to wait so long? To increase their desire? To hone their faith? Perhaps. Both happened. But I think something more was in play. God needed those seven years to get their family ready: a girl, some boys, a baby––everything their heart desired.

God does nothing half way. He meets EVERY need and desire that is in line with His will. Why He wills some to have families and others not, I don’t know. But He does. Why He wills some to recover from illness and others not, I don’t know. But He does. Why He wills some to experience success and fortune while others struggle, I don’t know. But He does.

And here again we might have to wait. In our lifetime and from our vantage point, we may never know the reason. But He does, and one day we will.

I sometimes amaze myself over the things that cause me to stumble.

Going up stairs, I can misjudge the distance and find myself hanging on by a toe.

Sometimes I’m not aware of an upcoming drop, and find myself in a state of panic as I wait for my foot to find the floor and hope it's not too far off.



Walking I can trip over a tree root, an uneven bit of pavement…even a rug thread.

Often in these cases, when I know the inevitable is about to happen, my world hits the slow motion button, and I can see myself going down. In those few seconds before body meets ground, I contemplate my options––if I have any. Option one is to put my hands out to stop the fall. Option two is to tuck my arms in, turn, and take it on the shoulder. Neither has proven very productive. Scrapped hands and an out of aligned shoulder have been the most common results.

The causes for these mishaps are always the same: not paying attention and not lifting my feet high enough, aka complacency.

Unfortunately, I have found the same is to blame in my spiritual walk. When I am not paying attention or I when fall into complacency, that is when Satan attacks, and before I know it, I am taking a fall. And like in the physical world, my efforts to soften my fall and protect myself are often useless, and Satan smiles in victory.

Peter warns us of Satan's desire to capitalize on our false sense of security when he says, “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (I Peter 5:8).

As we go through life, regardless if it’s on uneven terrain or, what appears to be, smooth flooring, let’s be vigilant. Let’s be aware of what Satan might have placed in our path and watch where we put our feet, and in so doing not stumble.

I would like to take today to pay tribute to all the mothers in the world and, in particular, those in my own family, especially my own mother. (The photo is when we were all a bit younger.)  I would also like to share one of my favorite poems about mothers written by English poet and literary critic Ann Taylor (1783 –1866). I know many of today’s fathers also perform some of these roles, but the mother still does as well.




Most sites publish an abridged version of the poem, but I would like you to be able to read as much of the poem as is in print, as I am sure each of you can relate to some portion or another. Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers out there!

My Mother
by Ann Taylor

Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush’d me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.

When first my lisping accents came,
And call’d mamma’s beloved name,
Who felt a transport thrill her frame?
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.

And when I crept from chair to chair,
Who watch’d my steps with anxious care,
Lest I should fall and hurt a hair?
My Mother.

When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet hushaby,
And rock’d me that I should not cry?
My Mother.

Who sat and watched my infant head,
When sleeping in my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who dress’d my doll in clothes so gay,
And taught me pretty how to play.
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God’s holy book and day.
And walk in Wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me?
My Mother.

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.

And when I see thee hang thy head,
‘Twill be my turn to watch thy bed.
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.

For could our Father in the skies
Look down with pleased or loving eyes,
If ever I could dare despise
My Mother.

This poem is in the public domain.

Unless you don’t follow sports at all, you are most likely aware of one of the most amazing comebacks in sports history.

A few weeks ago, at the Masters golf tournament in Augusta, Georgia, Tiger Woods came from behind to win his 15th career major win and his 81st tournament win. In every category he is now second: second most Masters wins (5); second most U.S. Open wins (3); 2nd most British Open wins (3); second most PGA wins (4); second most total major wins (15); and second most wins on the PGA tour (81).

There was a time when it was all but written in the history books that Tiger would shatter every one of those records. Then November 2009 happened––and, first, Tiger’s personal world imploded when his wife learned of his marital unfaithfulness, and then his professional career plummeted.

Confidence and health both seemed to abandon him. Knee, neck, Achilles, and back issues would plague him for the next ten years. Though many hoped he would turn his life around and get his game back on track, there were some who thought these problems were “just desserts” for his indiscretions, and even others who hoped he would suffer for his sins in perpetuity.

As the years wore on, even the sports “talking heads” were beginning to give up on him, and they turned to discussing what could have been. There was probably a time when only Tiger himself believed he could still right the ship: that he could sort out his personal life, overcome his medical issues, and reassemble his game. And I imagine even he had his doubts at times.

The 2019 Masters was a statement to the world. Eleven years after his last major win, and fourteen after his last Masters, Tiger was once again a winner, and now the sports pundits are counting the years until he breaks all the records.

There are probably times when we give up on others or others give up on us. Too many mistakes; too many missed chances; too many years under our belt; too many… too many…

But we need to remember that God never gives up on us, so we need to never give up either. In the whisper of a confession, God can bring us back to spiritual wholeness, and in the submission of our lives, he will direct us toward his ultimate purpose for us. We are never washed up or written off.

If you would like to be further inspired, check out Mike Lindell’s story (founder of MyPillow) and listen to Danny Gokey’s “Comeback.”