Boon's Sunday Sermon #31 - Seeking

Last year marked the start of a new family tradition in our home.  We began having an annual Easter egg hunt for the dogs.

Last weekend we took two dozen plastic eggs, stuffed them with Cesar softie treats, and hid them throughout the yard.  Each child took a dog to help guide them to some of the less obvious spots and to keep them from chomping into the plastic eggs.  Once the dogs got hold of their first egg, they each had one mission in mind:  FIND THE REST.  They dragged the kids behind them determined to seek out and enjoy their treats.

Matthew 6:33 tells us: "Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need."

God is not hidden from us.  We don't have to hunt for Him as we do an Easter egg.  He is always there, but sometimes we have to look. 

Jeremiah 29:13 assures us: "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."

  
Take time to seek after the Lord today.  Spend time in the Bible and in prayer.  You will always find him there.  


Come near to God and he will come near to you.  James 4:8

Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always.  Psalm 105:4

Boon's first Easter egg hunt - 2011

Boon's Sunday Sermon #25 - GAME DAY

Scarlet

Today is the big day - perhaps the most anticipated day in the United States second only to Christmas.  It is Super Bowl Sunday.

We here at The Love Shack are typically big Cowboys fans.  (Hey, don't blame us - our dad's from Texas!)  Today, however, we are proud to root for Eli Manning and the NY Giants!  (Eli's a Mississippi boy just like me!)

A few of the kids from Blair E. Batson Hospital in Jackson, MS where Eli has been a wonderful contributor over the years.

Regardless of who you are rooting for today, at the end of the day, there can be only one winner.  Not so, for believers.
Paul tells us in Philippians 4:14 - I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

Just like the two teams that made it to the Super Bowl fought through this football season to make it to where they are, we can fight through the seasons of our life knowing what lies ahead too - "pressing on towards the prize".
1 John 4:4 - You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.


Whatever "giant" you are facing today, know that we are more than overcomers through Christ Jesus.  Know that He has your best intention at heart.  Know that regardless of a football game's outcome, Satan is defeated and  YOU ARE A WINNER.  

Have a blessed week, friends!

Boon's Sunday Sermon #11 - Waiting on The Lord

Sometimes Mom goes where we dogs can't see her.  We don't like when that happens.  We always want to be right where she is.  Whether she is away from home or just in another room, we sit and wait for her to return to where we are.  We know that she loves us, and that she will be back.

Watching and waiting

Sometimes as children of God, you don't feel like you are where God is.  God promises in His Word that He will never forsake or abandon you.  He says "when we seek Him with our whole heart, we will find Him."  God longs to be with His children, but there are times that situations arise that leave you feeling helpless, hopeless, and alone - a prayer has gone unanswered or the miracle has yet to occur - but God is always near.


Sometimes His answer is to simply wait.  Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.  Psalm 37:7


Isaiah 40:31 says, "But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."

Wherever you are right now, God is near.  


Be patient.  Wait.  He will deliver you.


It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD.  Lamentation 3:26


Have a blessed week, friends!

Boon's Sunday Sermon #10 - Coming into His Presence

I'm sure for the common observer it would be quite comedic to watch my daily activities around the house. I get up and am followed to the bathroom by my dogs, Ohno and Boondocks, and my cat, Serendipity. I head to the kitchen to fix breakfast only to look down and see my beloved pets at my feet. I go sit down in my chair, and lo and behold, Serendipity has jumped on the back of the chair, Ohno in my lap, and Boondocks beside me or at my feet. They want to be close to me. Each step I take, I can count on one or all of them to be nearby. Ohno can honestly be classified as a "momma's boy". He is my shadow, and when I am out of his sight, he grieves.

My pets know that I have their best interest at heart. They know that I love and adore them. They know that I will take care of them, provide for them, and protect them. Because they have received my love for them, they have a desire to be where I am.

We are told in Psalms that in our Father God's presence is "fullness of joy". We are promised that "he who dwells in His presence, shall rest in His shadow".

Do you know that right now wherever you are God has your best interest at heart. He loves and adores you? Do you know that He will take care of you, provide for you, and protect you? If you have received His love, shouldn't you desire to be where He is?

Too often we allow ourselves to be distracted by things of this world. Kids are calling. Jobs are demanding. Who's playing football?  Facebook pulls. American Idol pulls. In all of our busy-ness we too often forget to be quiet and sit to dwell in the presence of our Most High King. At the times when we need God most, we often push Him away for something meaningless. It leaves a void in our lives, and our spirits ache and grieve.

God gives us every opportunity to be near Him. He is overjoyed when we take the time to climb up in His lap and share our life with Him. And when we do, we are given that fullness of joy for which our hearts long.

Come near to God and he will come near to you.  James 4:8

Serendipity

Boon's Sunday Sermon #8 - Slipping

Last week while camping, we pups saw the water and got excited.  We bolted. Had Jaden not grabbed Dad's shirt, we'd have all gotten wet. It reminded us of mom's very favorite scripture:

When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
your unfailing love, LORD, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
your consolation brought me joy.

Psalm 94:18-19

At the times in our lives when we feel at the end of our rope, we can always take comfort that God's love for us is unconditional and He is just a prayer away. 

May you find peace and rest in His loving arms this week.

Be blessed, friends!

Boon's Sunday Sermon #7 - Following Where the Master Leads

Isaac and Cosmo

Cosmo came to live with us when he was five and a half months old. He was a gift for Isaac’s 7^th birthday. We do not know much about the condition of Cosmo’s life before he came to live with us, but we do know he was not use to a lot of interaction with humans.
When we picked Cosmo up, we literally had to lift him into the van. No amount of coercing was enough to convince him to go willingly. We would try to throw a tennis ball for him to chase. His reaction was ‘no reaction’. The first time we put a leash on him, he thrashed his body around so wildly we were certain he would hurt himself or someone else. We unclipped the leash from his collar and vowed to try again later. From that point on when the leash came out, Cosmo froze with fear. He firmly planted his bottom on the ground and would not budge an inch.

We consulted a friend who is an award winning dog trainer. He evaluated Cosmo and reported that “this dog has no drive.” He went on to tell us that we’d never walk Cosmo on a leash and that Cosmo was ‘untrainable’.

Cosmo seemed to know from the beginning that Isaac was to be his master. He found comfort in Isaac’s presence, and Isaac spent hours reassuring him of his place in our home. Little by little Cosmo came out of his shell. Day by day he seemed to trust us more. He and Isaac now share a bond that most people can only dream of having with a pet. To see them together is truly a thing of beauty.

Now days when the leash comes out, instead of being afraid, Cosmo looks up at Isaac as if to say, “What grand adventure will you lead me on today?” I am convinced that the dog would follow Isaac to the ends of the earth.

Isaac gently takes hold of the leash and off they go. Cosmo doesn’t ask where they are going. Cosmo does not pull against the leash - not even to smell the ‘happenings’ of the neighborhood. Cosmo follows Isaac. His step is in perfect harmony with that of his master - all because he trusts Isaac and knows that Isaac wants only what is best for him.

In our lives it doesn’t always seem as easy to blindly follow. Problems arise that don’t seem to have a solution. Bills mount up. Relationships die down. Things are in constant need of repair. Often it seems that the path we are being led down will surely lead to our ultimate end. We have no hope, no faith, and no trust.

Yet when we allow God to take control of our lives, we learn that He is a Good Shepherd who will never abandon or forsake us. His intentions for us are good not evil. To walk in a relationship with Him - trusting His purpose for our life and having faith in who He is - brings FREEDOM.  You are no longer spiraling down a road leading to nowhere.  When we follow in The Master's steps, we can rest in the knowledge that He is leading us to where He wants us.  When we trust Him, our future no longer seems terrifying but rather satisfying because of the awareness that He who created the universe is holding your hand leading you to His best for your life.

Like Cosmo it sometimes requires taking a single step in faith and learning to trust - one step at a time.  Regardless of the road you are on when you call out to Jesus, he will give you rest. Won’t you follow Him?

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.

Psalm 23:1-3

　







Beginning soon The Love Shack Pack will begin accepting submissions for Boon's Sunday Sermon.  If God has given you an encouraging, uplifting word that you would like us to share, please email us at Samantha@theloveshackpack.com .

Boon's Sunday Sermon #6 - Little Black Dog

Today we'd like to share a writing with you by one of our favorite authors: Elisabeth Elliot.  This piece is beautifully written and describes her thoughts on a dog's 'mortality'.  We hope it touches your heart as it has ours.  Little Black Dog by Elisabeth Elliot

It is a late October morning of glorious sunshine in New Hampshire and I sit in an antique rocking chair by the window of an old house which was once a barn. The gray rocks on Mount Lafayette's broad summit are dusted with snow, and the sky is as blue as a sky can be. All that is still green today is the evergreens. Between them are the black line drawings of the thin leafless maples, wild cherries, aspens and birches. The feathery tamaracks are dark gold. Little yellow apples hang on one of the gnarled old trees of the orchard. I keep hoping a deer will come for them. My friend Miriam and I drove up yesterday from Boston for a few days of quiet at my brother's place. Both of us brought a load of desk work. No one else is here except Daisy, Miriam's new friend, a little white Pekingese. (Her old friend, Pity Sing, died a few weeks ago.) MacDuff, my six-year-old Scottish terrier, is not here this time either. We went for a short climb yesterday afternoon, up a rocky wooded trail that he used to love. He would race after the chattering chipmunks, bound up the steep granite slabs, and wait, panting, at the top for us to catch up. I missed him yesterday on that trail. I miss him today when I look out of the window. MacDuff died of cancer last week. I knew he was sick during the summer when his routines changed. He sat in the middle of the back yard one morning, instead of in his usual place by the fence, looking bewildered instead of in charge. One rainy day he was not on his chair in the screened porch, but I found him lying in a hollow place under a bush. He no longer leaped for his Milk-Bone at the breakfast table. But he kept his ears and tail up, and thus kept my hopes up. The vet said he had an infection and gave us pills. MacDuff got very cagey at detecting where those pills had been hidden in his food, so I had to try ever sneakier methods of getting them into him. They worked fine. He was well again--for a while faithfully putting in his self-appointed barking time each day, letting neighbor dogs know who was in charge, and keeping off trespassers, some of whom must have been demons since none of us humans could see them. But I saw that he was losing weight. I could feel the shoulder blades and spine through his heavy, ragged coat. I bought new kinds of dog food, special hamburger, yogurt. He was apologetic when he couldn't eat it, his eyes limpid with a plea for understanding, his stiff brush-tail quivering to explain. "Little Duffer, little black dog--could you try this?" I would ask, offering some tidbit that would surely be irresistible. He would lift his black nose, take it slowly and delicately in his teeth, hold it for a moment hoping I would look away, and then place it on the floor as tactfully as he could. He did not want to disappoint me. His suffering was a hard thing to watch. He was alone in it, as all creatures, human or animal, are alone in their pain. "The toad beneath the harrow knows exactly where each sharp tooth goes." There is no qualitative or quantitative measurement for pain. It is simply there sharp or dull, shooting or stabbing, bearable or excruciating, local or general, it is unexplained, uninvited, unavoidable. It takes command. It is all-encompassing, implacable, exigent. But of course I am speaking only of what I know of pain. How was it for MacDuff? He expected no special treatment. He did not pity himself. He took for granted that he would be able to go on about his accustomed terrier business and when he found that it was somehow not working well, he made his own adjustments as unobtrusively as he could. It was still the supreme object of his life to see that I was happy. I think he lay under the bush in the rain not in order to wallow in solitary self-pity, but in order that I might not see him in trouble. He liked to please me. He delighted to do my will. Is animal suffering different from human suffering? I hope so. Animals surely must not suffer the agonies of anxiety which accompany much human pain. "How shall I carry out my duties? What am I to do if this doesn't clear up quickly? Can I bear it if it gets worse?" The element of time is not a philosophical torment to them. They live as we have to be told to live--one day at a time, trustfully. I don't know whether it is accurate to say that "faith" is required of them, but if it is, they fulfill the requirement perfectly. They look to God, the Psalmist tells us, for provision for their needs. They are watched over and cared for by a kind Father. Not the least sparrow falls without his notice. Surely MacDuff was of more value than many sparrows! I watched him try to lie down on his side, but something obstructed his breathing. When he was asleep he would begin to pant and would waken to change his position, sometimes with little muffled groans. This fellow-creature, I thought, formed by the Hand that formed me, suffers for my sin--for I am of the race of men who brought evil into the world, and without evil there could be no pain, no death. A Scotty would not have had cancer. His wonderful face bearded, with tufts of eyebrows springing and black eyes shining--had reminded me of George MacDonald's belief that dogs always behold the face of the Father. MacDuff knew things--what did he know? What were the mysteries he saw--too deep or too high or too pure for me to be entrusted with yet? I think they helped him endure the pain. He was not bewildered, of course, by the questions that needle my mind--the origin of evil, God's permission of an animal's or a child's suffering. He was a dog, and to ponder such questions was not required of him. What was required of him he did, in an authentically, thoroughly dog-like style. I will not weep more for him. I will be thankful for such a gift of grace. He was, I am sure, "assigned" to me. In the sorrow of my late husband's illness, when life seemed a desolate wasteland, MacDuff was there. Jesus, the Bible tells us, during his temptation in the wilderness, was "with the wild beasts." I used to think of that phrase as descriptive of one of the elements of his dereliction, but it may be that the wild beasts, like the angels, ministered to him. Is it mere sentimentality to believe that? Is it too much to say that Duffer "ministered" to me? He did. He was my little wild beast in that wilderness. The Bible does not speak specifically of the destiny of animals but there is a promise in the Letter to the Ephesians which surely must include them, "Everything that exists in heaven or earth shall find its perfection and fulfillment in Christ" (Eph. 1:10 Phillips). Paul expresses his hope in the eighth chapter of Romans (verse 21 Phillips) "that in the end the whole of created life will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay, and have its share in that magnificent liberty which can only belong to the children of God!" Copyright 1979, by Elisabeth Elliot all rights reserved.