Greetings, Hungry for God family,

Here in South Carolina, we’re experiencing the Dog Days of August. Temperatures have hovered near the triple digits, and we’re hunkering down inside. To all my northern friends, this is the equivalent of your winter, only with less clothing and more sweat 🙂

I want to share something super exciting with you, my blog family, before I share it elsewhere on social media — the cover for my next book, Refresh Your Prayers, Uncommon Devotions to Restore Power and Praise. The kind folks at Our Daily Bread Publishing have been hard at work preparing for our release date of March 1. Please pray for them as they pretty up my simple words and create a beautiful book for you to read and share.

And please pray for me. While Refresh Your Prayers simmers in the publishing crock pot, I’m hard at work writing Book Three in the Refresh series, Refresh Your Hope, 60 Unshakeable Reasons Not to Lose Heart. As a thank you in advance for your prayers, here’s a sample of one of the hope-filled devotions that will fill this volume.

Please leave a comment and let me know how you like the cover. And while you’re there, share a prayer request. It would be my honor to pray for you as you pray for me.

Blessings,

Lori

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

Romans 8:18

I’ve only experienced the “runner’s high” once in my life. By accident.

The varsity track coach substituted me at the last minute for an injured teammate slotted to run the 440 relay. It was a desperate move given the fact that I’d never mastered the baton handoff and had only fully trained for the hurdles.

I suspect sheer fright caused the adrenaline rush I felt half way down the straightaway. My legs pumped harder than they’d ever done as my mind whirled. Don’t let your teammates down. They’re counting on you. With 500 meters to go, something inside me kicked into overdrive, and my feet began to fly. Instead of laboring against the sandy track, I soared above it. My breath came easy, and my energy surged. I felt as if I could run for miles.

Our team won the race, my coach high fived me as I crossed the finish line, and I earned a permanent spot on the relay team. Sadly, I completed the rest of the season without ever again experiencing the euphoria I felt during that race.

Several years ago, however, I came close.

I’d lived through a hard month. A three-week bout with the flu had left me weak and nauseous. Too much time in bed aggravated my sciatic nerve, causing me to limp. A new pair of sandals gave me a blister on my foot. The temperature in Columbia had soared to over 100 degrees for four days in a row. Although I normally walk three miles every morning, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laced up my shoes.

Then one day, my fever abated, and my strength returned.

Tomorrow I’m going walking.

Early the next morning I donned my walking shoes and headed out.

An overnight rain had dampened the landscape and cooled the air. The heat and humidity from the previous day had vanished. A gentle breeze rustled the crepe myrtle trees and scattered blossoms like confetti. In the pause between darkness and dawn, pink light airbrushed the sky.

The nerve pain and the blister that had hobbled my steps were gone. My legs felt strong. Sucking in great draughts of air, I flew through the neighborhood, barely tethered to the asphalt beneath my feet. I felt alive again.

Out of the corner of my eye, between the street sign and the cul de sac, in my spirit I caught a glimpse of heaven.

Heaven, where the heat of this world will fade away. Where the harsh glare of earthly living will soften to a gentle glow.  Where our physical limitations, the daily reminders of the frailty of our human flesh, will no longer hinder us. Death will vanish, melting into immortality. Health and strength will raise our stooped backs and infuse our wobbly limbs.

We’ll breathe supernatural air and fly on winged feet toward eternity.

Perhaps moments like these are why God allows us to live seventy or eighty years cloaked in human flesh—to fully prepare us to appreciate the holy high of heaven. Without the contrast of dark to light, weakness to strength, mourning to gladness, we’d take the perfection of our forever home for granted. We’d fail to fully grasp the wonder of it all, and somehow diminish the full impact of its glory.

Take Heart

Knowing that the glories of heaven will totally eclipse the sufferings of this world gives us hope.

From the Heart

Lord, help us accept the weakness that points us to your strength, the sorrow that helps us understand joy, and the death that will one day usher us into eternal life. Teach us to fix our eyes on you, trusting that the sufferings of this present world will prepare us to more fully appreciate heaven. Thank you for the promise that our sufferings are “not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” In this we find hope.