(Flying Birds?) There is a Way That Seems Right

“There is a way that seems right to a man. But its end is the way of death.”

Proverbs 14:12

Originally hailing from Minnesota, I understand how important The Vikings are.

You cannot fight city hall. Football.

Back in 2016, a new football stadium was unveiled for the Vikings.

It, of course, got a lot of attention, especially as Minnesota was preparing to host the Superbowl in 2018.

Excitement. New was in the air.

And what was also in the air?

Birds.

And here’s where things take a turn.

The stadium’s location was within a mile of the Mississippi River, a major flyaway location for migrating birds.

And, unfortunately, despite the brilliant and impressive design of the stadium, with 200,000 square feet of glass, surrounding it, there was a problem.

The birds kept crashing into the glass… and dying.

Not festive.

The Audobon Society stepped up, asserting the feathered friends’ case.

Birds are unable to distinguish glass from natural sky.

Therefore, they keep going, until they encounter that glass… to their death.

The glass was confusing the birds.

Appeals for solutions were made, including replacing that harmful exterior with that of bird-safe glass, which had patterns on it.

The birds would notice the patterns, see, somehow, that it was not “sky,” and, therefore, not barrel full steam ahead to their demise.

Great! Problem solved?

Come on, you know the set up here.

Unfortunately, to replace the exterior, an extra $1.1 million would need to be shelled out for that bird-safe glass.

And, of course, no one seemed to be able to find the money to make those changes.

To my knowledge, there has not been any “bird-safe glass” replacement.

“There is a way that seems right to a man. But its end is the way of death.”

Proverbs 14:12

We are not that different from these birds, are we?

As much as we’d like to assert that they are “stupid” for flying into the glass, how often have we, you know, the “superior, more intelligent beings” crashed into things in our own lives?

It looks good. It looks like “sky.”

“The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.”

Proverbs 12:15 

This has to do with “the solution” in our own bird brains.

And we all have our solutions.

“Whoever trusts in his own mind is a fool, but he who walks in wisdom will be delivered.”

Proverbs 28:26 

The Fool and The Wise.

Which pile do we reside in?

Yep. We get an idea. A “bright idea.”

But IS it?

We think we see sky. We think we get the green light to fly straight ahead.

But is it sky… or harmful, deadly glass?

Right from the start, The Most High is clear about His Ways and His Thoughts…

My ways are higher than your ways.

“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,’ says the LORD (Elohim). ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.”

Isaiah 55:8-9

What do we do about that?

Do we agree with it?

What do we think about His thoughts, versus our thoughts?

What could possibly be so bad about our thoughts anyway?

Well, here’s a Whitman’s Sampler.

Enjoy… and cringe.

Our thoughts?

Prideful…

Lustful…

Greedy…

Immature…

Cruel..

Petty…

Raging..

Impatient…

And Thought-LESS…

“The fear of the Lord (Elohim) is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

Proverbs 1:7 

Yeah.

Do we accept the wisdom that, maybe, the supposedly- similar-looking sky is NOT sky?

Do we acknowledge Him, in each way, sky opportunities, included?

“Trust in the LORD (Elohim) with all your heart. And do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.”

Proverbs 3:5-6

Come on. You and I know the answer, all too often, to that question.

More like THIS instead.

We fly. We don’t consider things, pause, or slow down.

“The simple believes everything, but the prudent gives thought to his steps.”

Proverbs 14:15 

Yep.

We double down on our plans. We believe that what we see is sky.

We want it to be sky. We are determined that it will BE sky.

And we, fly, fly, fly!

“One who is wise is cautious and turns away from evil, but a fool is reckless and careless.”

Proverbs 14:16 

Maybe we even rationalize, “It’s close enough (to sky)- good enough!”

Great life strategy there, huh?

I know that I have strategized this approach a lot of times in my life.

“Like a dog that returns to his vomit is a fool who repeats his folly.”

Proverbs 26:11 

Yay.

Again, more fool folly fun.

Repeating folly.

Let’s say “yay” again.

Only now, we are in the clouds, in the name of flying in the sky of our dreams?

Great.

So…

We fly smack into the glass.

“A fool's lips walk into a fight, and his mouth invites a beating.”

Proverbs 18:6 

Or, in keeping with the bird theme here, our wings fly into a fight, hit the glass, and take that beating.

And then what happens?

Death happens.

“There is a way that seems right to a man. But its end is the way of death.”

Proverbs 14:12

Ah.

How many ways can we experience death?

Oh, let’s count some ways.

Death of relationships…

Death of marriages…

Death of careers…

Death of integrity/reputation…

Death of health…

Death of peace…

That’s a lot of death, isn’t it?

You and I have made those decisions that kept us flying into the harmful glass.

We kept insisting, kept trying, kept hoping that the glass was sky.

Perhaps, yes, we are even doing it right now.

Spiritual Bird- Safe Glass

“And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand.”

Matthew 7:26 

I know I am not immune from being foolish and from making mistakes.

Therefore…

These Words of Mine?

His Word, Scripture. Divine Guidance.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye.”

Psalm 32:8

“Trust in the LORD (Elohim) with all your heart. And do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.”

Proverbs 3:5-6

They exist for us. To help, lead, and protect us… from crashing.

And we all need help from crashing.

Prayer is also a part of that “bird-safe glass.”

So, let’s pray.

I know I could sure use some prayer about my plans, foolishness, folly, and crashing to my death.

How about you?

ABBA FATHER-

We come to You, In Yahshua’s Name; we pray.

You know what ideas we are grappling with.

You know how much something means to us. You know if we are hasty, foolish, impatient, arrogant, and desperate.

Forgive us for moving ahead with our plans before waiting on and consulting you.

You know what this means to us.

Desires. Dreams. Plans.

You know all of them.

Please help us. Guide us.

Protect us from moving forward with our dangerous, harmful, and unwise plans.

Guide us and lead us on the paths of blessings that You have for us.

Thank You for helping us.

In Yahshua’s Name we pray,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Going Through Hell?

I love Winston Churchill’s sentiment:

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

Life is tough.

Sooner or later, we’ll experience a trying situation which feels like hell. It isn’t actual hell, thank The Most High. Nevertheless, the power of that notorious situation/trauma makes us feel tortured with pain, despair and hopeless evidence. Eating disorders, addictions, compulsions, loss and grief are just a few examples of things which can feel like hell, if, indeed, torture is its calling card.

It’s painful and almost impossible to see future, life, possibility or The Almighty. We can, instead, much more easily see ourselves as failures, weak, forgotten and ruined. It’s, therefore, inevitable we come to a screeching halt; we stop in the mire and can only feel ourselves sinking…down to where? Greater depths of hell and torture?

But that’s not Elohim’s truth about us. Even in the middle of hopelessness, The Most High is there…living…loving…working…

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love (The Most High) God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28

“Behold, I am the Lord (Elohim), the (The Most High) God of all flesh. Is there anything too hard for Me?”

Jeremiah 32:27

It can be tempting to believe that in our self-defined hells, we’re going it alone. But we’re not. Psalm 23 reassures us of that truth…

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…”

Psalm 23:4

And as we ‘keep going,” transformation, bit by bit, occurs…

 “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord (Elohim), are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord (Elohim).”

2 Corinthians 3:18

And “keep going” doesn’t necessarily mean a dramatic, larger than life display. It can be the tiniest effort, decision or prayer. It just needs to exist. Our Divine Creator requires only a mustard seed of faith, not a mountain.

I believe we underestimate both The Most High and ourselves. We can be one thought, word or deed away from breakthrough; we never know. But HE does. And even when we fall short, HE has decided and created the contingency plan for us. Yahshua.

“…being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of (Yahshua Ha-Mashiach) Jesus Christ.”

Philippians 1:6

Are we confident in that Truth? Are we confident in The Great I Am’s involvement as we go through our different kinds of hell? Do we “keep going,” armed with trust in Him, leading, guiding, helping and transforming our lives, even in the appearance of wreckage? We all need help in this area of the faith department.

We’re all in process. That applies to the “going through hell” process.

Are you experiencing some kind of hell right now? Are you stopping in it or moving through it? Regardless, He is too good of a Creator and Father to leave you in that spot; you WILL get through this, whatever “this” may be. Trust Him.

“Trust in the Lord (Elohim) with all your heart; and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”

Proverbs 3:5-6

He has much more for you and me!

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord (Elohim), thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

Jeremiah 29:11

Keep going!

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

How To Put a Bra On

“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…”

—Psalm 139:14

After my 2017 Breast cancer diagnosis, as I recovered from my bilateral mastectomy, I hadn’t counted on this particular problem. Putting a bra on.

I was once a large- busted woman, in double D territory. And, granted, I’ve never had a well-fitted bra, pre-mastectomy. In the past, whenever I tried to cope with an ill-fitting double D, the issue was more about finding non-ugly bras than finding ones that were large enough to house my bustline. When I finally managed to find one or two that didn’t make me cringe, I’d put them on over my head or step into them. Presto! I was in my bra.

Once I recovered from my breast surgery and radiation, however, the landscape changed. I was fitted, correctly so, with mastectomy bras. The firsts of their kind included one white garment, one black, both with cute little rosettes on them, for added sassiness. I was able to insert my chosen B cup breast forms into them. It was dramatic. I was no longer “top heavy,” as I had been most of my life.

And then, things really looked promising: “Coobie” bras. These “comfort bras” had a built-in shape already to them; there was no need, then, for my breast forms.  My husband actually bought these two for me, selected from the wider range of colors offered. One of them was even purple. Purple! Finally, some actual color in my life!

So, here I was, with an exciting reality of pretty and colorful bras, set before me. I should be feeling comfortable and feminine right about now, right?

Well, not quite. And here’s where old bra-festooned me collided with new, post- mastectomy, bra-festooned me. The former me was able to put my ill-fitting bras over my head or step into them, spinning the already- fastened garment around my midriff and slipping the straps over my shoulders. Because my pre-surgery bras were, indeed, larger and ill-fitting, there was enough room for these maneuvers.

But now, with these well-fitted bras, there was just room for, well, me.

I tried slipping them over my head. Nope, too restricted, not enough room. I tried stepping into them, hoping to do the midriff slide. No such luck there, either. I wound up ensnaring my legs with the bra halfway up my thighs; it was a wonder I didn’t trip myself, bonking my head on the corner of my dresser.

So, unless I wanted to learn the trade secrets of a Cirque du Soleil acrobat, I needed another plan.

The only way seemed to be the good old- fashioned way. I had to put them on, leading with my torso, slipping the straps up my arms and over my shoulders and fastening them by their hooks in the back. I tried a number of times; it wasn’t happening. The amount of fabric housing the two clasp options on these newer bras was only an inch. With my larger, pre-mastectomy options, I was accustomed to a three-to-four- inch swatch of material, accommodating at least four different clasps. I was stranded, fidgeting, attempting to get hooked already.

I finally had to resort to yelling for my husband, “Honey, please help me?”

With the more relaxed, Coobie bras, there was no such hook. These were strictly over the head bras. But, because they were a second skin fit, wriggling into these bras overhead was a greater challenge than I was used to experiencing.

Fitting 911:

I couldn’t go on like this, contorting myself into a pretzel, just trying to get into my lingerie. And, unless my husband wanted to be on constant standby, I needed to figure out how to put my bra on all by myself.

Therefore, I called my Breast cancer supply store. This shop is a sorority of women having gone through their own Breast cancer experiences. They “get it.”

I asked about another fitting for my second pair (out of six) of mastectomy bras, allotted per year, via my insurance plan. I explained my predicament, asking for any front closure bras and strategies to help me get dressed. I was told there was one bra which had a front closure feature; we could order it in a 38 A, to compensate for the adjustments during my next bra fitting.

So, I showed up. I was met by the lovely Gail, who worked with me in an earlier session.

Brands of Bras:

Gail laid out my black 38 A bra, from the ABC brand of bras. This piqued my curiosity. I asked about the major brands available. Here are some offerings you should be able to go into any Breast cancer supply store and ask for by name.

Besides ABC, responsible for my front closure bra, there is Amoena (pronounced Ah-Mona, but looks like it’d be pronounced Amoeba). My first 36 B black and white rosette bras were from this company. You can also ask for my beloved Coobie brand “comfort bras” and Luisa Luisa, which provided the recovery garments I was given for my bandaged, post-surgery and pesky drain needs.

As I was fitted with my ABC black, front-closure bra, something immediately caught my attention. This bra had clasps in both the front and the back. Where had these wonderful creatures been all my life?

I’d never encountered this option with bras before my breast surgery. Gail told me she believed only mastectomy bras had this feature. The design and patent MUST have come from a woman.

The 38 A strategy worked great with my 36 B breast forms. I fastened the six front closure hooks and voilà! I was in my bra.

Strategies:

I also asked for additional strategies. Gail suggested the tactic of putting on the bra first, gathered around the midriff, while inserting the forms into the bra pockets, instead of fitting the forms in first before dressing.

I tried that maneuver with both my rosette Amoenas and my front-clasp ABC option. Not surprisingly, theses bras proved more of a contortionist challenge.

Again, with the close fit, there simply wasn’t as much room for sliding and shimmying. Trying to get my forms in still felt difficult. My wrists can only bend so far.

With my front-clasp ABC, I had better results. It’s difficult to say how much of that success was attributed to the midriff/breast form approach while on my body or how much of the ease was directly related to the fact that the bra was a 38, not a 36.

And that leads me to my next strategy. Go for getting a larger size if you need to do so. In my situation, the original measurements of my first bras simply added 4 ½ inches for the larger bras. It can feel a bit like a bad Algebra class, trying to size this math accurately. How a 38 A emanates from a 36 B, I’m not exactly sure. Which is why a professional fitting is a must. They know how to make the math happen.

“Without counsel, plans go awry. But in the multitude of counselors, they are established.”

Proverbs 15:22

No “Perfect Fit:”

I’m learning, overall, this entire mastectomy bra thing is trial and error. There is no perfect bra, Cinderella. You can try certain brands and maneuvers, but, as with our new bodies, it’s about adjustment, not perfection.

But hopefully, in these imperfect life changes, you and I can, at least, somehow, someway, put a bra on.

May you, in you own adventures, indeed, NOT BE, fit to be tied in the process!

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

The Power Of Critique:Turtle Versus Cat

https://youtu.be/KG4b_exkugY?si=tgKQ7_u_rmXAAF1-

I recently caught a viral video of a turtle repeatedly head butting a cat. The feline, annoyed, swishing its tail, eventually got up and moved. And the turtle was on its way. Is it a lesson in adversity? In persistence? In forging ahead, despite negative feedback?

Other people hold mirrors up to us. And a significant mirror came to me in the form of a critic to my beloved baby, my book, “Thin Enough.”

They say we’re supposed to embrace the criticism and the ugly truth. Well saying that, doing that and feeling great about it don’t necessarily happen all at the same time. But criticism and unpleasant comments still occur, often while we’re in the middle of something as challenging as recovery from a compulsion, addiction or disorder.

 After my book’s release in 2006, I had some reviews. They weren’t raves from “The New York Times,” but some positive things were said about how my book was helpful, containing insightful counseling questions and relevant scriptures by topic.

And, likewise, I also had some reviews which said my book wasn’t helpful to eating disorder sufferers, was too distracting and was not enough of a genuine resource. And, I suppose, the point could be made. After all, I had no counseling credentials, no doctor added to my name. It was just me, telling my story.

But still, these reviews were ouch-y.

One such review was made by a book critic who reviewed “Thin Enough” on her blog.

She- ah, let’s give her a name, not her real name- “Nelly” wasn’t crazy about my use of scripture, my wonderful counseling questions or the statistics I placed in the book. She stated I gave the reader a lot of busy work, but not much of a story. Ouch. She was annoyed by it. In fact, the most positive thing she said about my book was how she was drawn to my book cover.

(At least she liked something, right)?

So, what do I do with these less than great reviews?

I had to just accept it for what it was. I believe there’s truth in both good and bad press. Some people loved my story; some thought it was irrelevant. Some people loved the scriptures and the questions; some people, like Nelly here, were annoyed by them.

These differing opinions both existed and neither one cancelled out the other.

Again, it comes down to which press do you believe: the good or the bad?

I’ve often heard of actors, performers and writers who say they never read their own reviews. Why not? Because it’s not the entire story; it’s not all horrible or all praiseworthy. Any product or performance is imperfect because WE are imperfect. A work can be excellent, but perfection is too much to require of it. And pleasing everyone out there? Well, forget about doing that!

Why am I going on about this?  What’s the point? I believe we need to look at this critique element concerning even our addictions and recovery processes.

I didn’t like it, but my critic, Nelly was pointing out the doubts I was asking about myself.

Yeah, people like to be liked; it feels great when people say nice things about you, give you awards and make a big production of your existence. You can suppress that reality, proclaim you’re not affected by it. However, like pushing a beach ball under water, eventually the truth will pop up again.

There is no perfect human being, no perfect work and no perfect performance; there is also no perfect life process, either.

 “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which (Yahshua Ha- Mashiach) Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of (YAH) God in (Yahshua ha-Mashiach) Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 3:12-14

Just because that’s the case, however, don’t let that stop you from growing, changing and yes, seeking Elohim, warts and all, even in spite of addictions, disorders and compulsions. And don’t be condemned when, not if, you fall, because of these less than sweet or pretty realities.

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of (YAH) God.”

Romans 3:23

Don’t let that stop you. Be the relentless, head butting turtle.

God hasn’t given up on any of us; why should we give up on Him?

He knows in full detail, what’s going on with us, at any given point. And He’s never intimidated by that reality, as we run into resistance, criticism, obstacles or failures.

“Behold, I am the Lord (Elohim), (YAH) the God of all flesh. Is there anything too hard for Me?”

Jeremiah 32:27

We’re never too much for Him, even when we’re too much for ourselves. Caution: critique. Whether it’s your own, a circumstantial critique or one emanating from another person, be it positive or negative, don’t let that critique be the final say; let God be instead!

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

The Two Gildas

“…I have called you by name; you are mine.”

Isaiah 43:1

I have a history with one shared name: Gilda.

First, there’s legendary screen icon, Rita Hayworth. She’s best known for her portrayal of the film noir siren, “Gilda.” When I saw her in that stunning 1946 film, I was thoroughly convinced she was a woman reveling confident in her beauty.

That black strapless gown with its matching opera length gloves…

That red hair cascading over her shoulders…

What wasn’t to love about Rita Hayworth as Gilda?

By the time I was thirteen, she was one of my earliest beauty icons. And I decided to try to mimic her.

It did not go well.

I dyed my dark brown hair red twice in one summer.

Twice.

“Copper Penny” was the name of the hair color.

By the way, I have an “olive” skin tone, with its yellow base. So, mix an olive complexion with “Copper Penny” red hair and what do you get?

The look of Jaundice.

Anyway, Rita made me dream of movie star beauty and the promise of its perfection. However, even she had a more complicated back story going on.

Originally born Margarita Carmen Cansino, of Spanish and Irish-English heritage, a Hollywood studio head was so bothered by her reality, that he changed her name to the “less ethnic” Hayworth. From there, he made Rita undergo her Hollywood makeover. Her hair was dyed red and her hairline was raised, via electrolysis.

And, after her career skyrocketed, things did not get easier.

“Men fell in love with Gilda, but they wake up with me.”

“Rita Hayworth: Portrait of a Love Goddess” (1977) by John Kobal

Rita was married and divorced numerous times, was addicted to alcohol, and, sadly, succumbed to complications from Alzheimer’s Disease in 1987, at the age of 68.

She was a human being, susceptible to the human experience.

Just like the rest of us.

In reading about her life, I discovered that she, indeed, separated her true Margarita self from that of the red-headed Rita. When she was on vacation, not filming a movie, she would let her hair grow out. Studio execs probably were mortified to see her dark roots eclipsing that flame-red dye job, endangering the Hollywood sex appeal.

Yet she was Margarita, even when Rita was called to the set. She was real.

And, speaking of real, how about my second influential Gilda?

"Having cancer gave me membership in an elite club I'd rather not belong to."

Gilda Radner

I first read her book, “It’s Always Something” years ago, long before my cancer diagnosis.

Since I was a kid, I’ve been transported from pain to ridiculousness, especially through the likes of her Saturday Night Live character, Roseanne Roseannadanna.

I’ll admit, there was a point when I wanted to have my hair like that character’s wig. I was enchanted by its jutting triangle.

But, beyond the wig, Radner’s power and comic timing were undeniable. And later, with her own ovarian cancer diagnosis, Gilda taught me how to use humor as a weapon, even with cancer.

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine….”

Proverbs 17:22

Cliché alert. Yeah, we’ve all heard about the healing power of humor. Patients respond better to treatment while watching funny movies. Supposedly, you cannot laugh and be in physical pain at the same time.

Supposedly.

Beyond even the absurdities of treatment itself, this Gilda taught me, through her raw experiences, sometimes you do laugh while being in pain.

Depressing?

Or empowering?

I’m finding more of the latter, although, yes, spoiler alert, depression is right there, making its own rounds.

Radner once said humor’s definition was when you arrive at the truth before someone else does.

It’s the zinger, the unexpected humanity.

She created and sang her own “f-bomb” ridden song about cancer cells coming back. She joked about her diagnosis, breaking the stigma as she appeared, in primetime, on the 1980’s comedy, “It’s the Garry Shandling Show.”

She posed for a photo with a friend’s newborn, showcasing both beautiful bald heads.

She found a way to make her experiences her own. And, for those of us, diagnosed or not, isn’t that the best we can do?

“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.”

Psalm 139:14

I’m affected by the name Gilda. It has spanned beauty, hilarity, awkwardness, elegance, courage, heartache, frailty, strength, disease, and death.

Which Gilda am I?

Femme fatale fiction? Funny, awkward namesake?

It’s my choice, day to day.

I believe it is our choice. We cannot live removed from the truth of who we are.

“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.”

Psalm 139:14

Which Gilda are we?

I believe we’re both.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

To No Effect

Recently, I took Communion with a friend.

We took part in these Communion cups. You can buy them online, yes, even on Amazon.

Anyway, we read one of the scriptural passages of “The Last Supper,” (like Luke 22:18-20; 1 Corinthians 11:23-25; Matthew 26:26-29).

We chose Mark 14:22-25…

 “And as they did eat, Jesus(Yahshua)  took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said, ‘Take, eat: this is my body.’

And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them: and they all drank of it.

And he said unto them, ‘This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for many.

Verily I say unto you, I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine, until that day that I drink it new in the Kingdom of God (The Most High).’”

 

It sounds quite straightforward, doesn’t it?

And yet, my friend had an unusual response to “The Distribution.”

 

Concerning the Communion wafer, the “Bread/Body,” my friend reacted to verse 22.

 “Couldn’t I just place it on my tongue?”

That’s the question he asked.

It didn’t question the Truth of Yahshua.

It didn’t question the Truth of The Bread.

The breaking of it.

There wasn’t a big fuss. He broke the tiny wafer in two pieces.

Communion resumed.

 

It made me think. My friend’s denominational background influenced that question.

Roman Catholicism.

 

This isn’t about picking on any denomination. I have history with the Lutheran Church, myself.

(And the Lefse Potluck dinners to prove it).

This is about traditions.

Ways of doing things.

Each person has their own way of going about life and routine.

Churches, therefore, being filled with these creatures, called people, likewise, also have their way of doing things.

Tradition.

Dogma.

“The Service.”

 

My friend, having come from the Catholic Church, was accustomed to the Communion wafer being placed whole on his tongue, by the priest, during “The Distribution.”

The wafer was not broken.

That is opposite of what is recorded in Scripture, in example, Mark 14:22.

It’s not about nitpicking but picking up on the power of that breaking.

Breaking of The Body.

Yahshua did not die whole.

He was broken.

Injured.

Bleeding.

He did not sacrifice Himself for us in a neat, tidy, clean way.

Yes, He was perfect and clean, but His death?

Broken and grizzly.

“Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye.”

Mark 7:13

“Neglecting the commandment of God, you hold to the tradition of men.”

Mark 7:8

We all do this.

Tradition.

In big decisions, like choosing ourselves as The Most High, instead of trusting Him to be Who He is.

Tiny yes and no responses to any number of questions.

We do it in mundane ways.

But what Holy details are found in the mundane?

Do we inquire about that?

Do we believe He has His answer for us?

“He took the Bread and BROKE it.”

What comes up for you, reading, hearing, and seeing that?

Abba Father-

We come to You, in The Name of Yahshua, By His BROKEN, CRUCIFIED BODY AND SHED BLOOD, asking for Your forgiveness for our many sins. These sins have also included how we have disregarded You, at Your Word and Truth.

Forgive us, anoint, and lead us to fully see, live, love, and agree fully with Who You are.

We, by faith, cast down every imagination (2 Corinthians 10:5), every tradition.

We want Your Effect, in and through our lives, from this moment on.

Thank You for helping us to live for You, not for traditions.

We receive it, in the Name of Yahshua.

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Crying in The Faith Shower

Can you relate?

“In the morning you shall say, ‘Oh, that it were evening!’ And at evening you shall say, ‘Oh, that it were morning!’ because of the fear which terrifies your heart, and because of the sight which your eyes see.”

Deuteronomy 28:67

This verse is largely tied to the curse of disobedience. It is not feel-goody.

And how many of us, cursed or not, feel the weight of these words as we contemplate stepping into the shower? We start our day this way?

The heaviness.

Yes, we can be focused, disciplined, “people of faith.”

We can be hardworking, dedicated, and loyal.

Yet, it seems like nothing is happening for us.

Or worse, the wrong things are happening for us.

“For my life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing: my strength faileth because of mine iniquity, and my bones are consumed.”

Psalms 31:10

It sounds to me like a great example of us crying in the shower, doesn’t it?

This goes beyond a workplace environment, a job that makes us only feel exploited and invisible.

It speaks to our feelings and perspectives of pointlessness.

That we only exist for pain and unfulfillment.

Morning, therefore, can be the most dreadful, because it often reminds us that we are Sisyphus, only pushing the rock up a hill, yet again.

This is all life is.

So, yes, we cry in the shower, don’t we?

We feel the pressure of boulder tears racing our eyes. It doesn’t matter if we open our eyes or shut them tightly to prevent the tears from coming.

The pressure remains; it feels unbearable.

So, no, many of us are not the sunny “morning people,” launching into each new day with the enthusiasm of an adventurer.

Yeah, I know.

It’s more like this guy, instead.

The cat hair is symbolic of our frazzled, burned out, even despondent selves.

Right before we go about our situation of crying in the shower.

Morning is not a reminder of wonder and blessings for many of us.

It is drudgery. Tediousness. Burnout. Even despair.

Morning Reminders…

Before we get anything going, including that shower running, it’s helpful to consider the promise of morning.

Scripture does have some things to say about it…

“…Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5

“It is of Elohim's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.”

Lamentations 3:22-23

I know.

That is so painful and challenging to experience, isn’t it?

I know it can be difficult and painful to get behind those verses. The day, in morning light, can often feel ruined before it even starts.

“Waters flowed over mine head; then I said, I am cut off.”

Lamentations 3:54

This is the only experience for many of us, as we get in the shower.

The water is going to flow over our heads and remind us that it is bleak.

We are only “cut off?”

The job.

The toxic relationship.

The unhappy role we feel forced into.

The sense of pointlessness.

Just some examples of why we cry in the shower.

All valid reasons behind our tears.

And our tears are valid.

“... ‘I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee...”

2 Kings 20:5

You may not feel like you are praying in the shower.

Just crying.

Just silently stuffing down those tears.

That despair.

But, through your tears and sobbing, you are praying.

“With groanings that cannot be uttered…”

“Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.”

Romans 8:26

This scripture often gets mentioned concerning “praying in the spirit- speaking in tongues.”

And yeah, that’s true.

But I believe it’s more than that.

The Holy Spirit, our Comforter, Guide, and Teacher, also groans through and for us. Tears are part of that process.

Our tears groan. They can do so without ever making a noise.

He knows everything about us, including when we are silently crying, in and out of the shower.

Our sighs are also recorded as prayers.

“You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thought afar off.”

Psalm 139:2

Crying- tears- sighing- they are ALL thoughts. He knows them all.

He is recording- and storing- all of them.

“You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?”

Psalm 56:8

What was your morning like today?

Did you cry in the shower today?

Is “crying in the shower” your emotional, mental, and spiritual state?

“…‘Refrain your voice from weeping. And your eyes from tears; For your work shall be rewarded...”

Jeremiah 31:16

Our “work” stretches beyond any “job.”

It speaks to effort. Maybe even, intention.

It speaks to our heart issues.

And we all have them, no matter what we do for “work.”

 

Think about the last time you cried. When was that?

How recent was it?

 

He keeps record of EVERY TEAR, no matter when or where it was shed. Silent tears, un-cried tears. Stifled, stuffed down tears.

Exhausted, “too-tired-to-even-try-to-cry-tears.”

ALL OF THEM.

“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.”

Psalms 126:5

Let’s pray.

ABBA-

We come to You, in the Name of Yahshua.

You know our cry.

You know if we cried in the shower.

You know our desperation, our despair, or deep sadness, regret, and our frustration.

You know.

Forgive us for not turning to You.

By faith, we do now.

Please attend to both our cry and all our tears.

Help us.

Be Who You are, Our Loving Father TO us.

Resolves, heal, bless, and reward us.

Anoint us with Your Joy and Peace.

Thank You.

We receive it, in the Name of Yahshua,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Ducks in a Row

“Let all things be done decently and in order.”

1 Corinthians 14:40

“Get your ducks in a row.”

We have heard that expression a lot in this culture.

It’s about getting organized. Being prepared.

Planning ahead.

It's the stuff that is lauded in our modern-day world.

“Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time.”

Colossians 4:5 

I have a duck kitchen timer.

This guy, right here.

Like most kitchen timers, it has a capacity of one hour on it.

Most things that would need to be timed, fall within that one-hour timespan.

We can reason that there is plenty of time to get things done.

Reason.

Time.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”

Ecclesiastes 3:11 

There is an Order to us; He created us intentionally.

We are His Creations in Time.

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”

Psalm 139:16 

Time, Spending time wisely. Getting successfully our ducks in a row.

“Let all things be done decently and in order.”

1 Corinthians 14:40

It’s a challenge, for the best of us, for the best of our circumstances.

The Almighty is a Deity of order. But He is more than that. He is not just Our Creator; He is Our Father.

So, with that in mind, let’s break down how Time concerns Our Father.

For our sakes.

FATHER Time…

“And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place.”

Acts 17:26 

Before there’s the emphasis on Him as Father, there is the Role of Creator.

It’s what Kicks off everything in Genesis.

“In the beginning…”

Genesis 1:1

Right away, He sets the orderly stage.

Included in that is time, expressed through seasons.

“…’Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and seasons, and for days and years.’”

Genesis 1:14

“He made the moon for the seasons; The sun knows the place of its setting.”

Psalm 104:19

A time kind of baseline.

And Ecclesiastes has a lot to say about Time.

Ecclesiastes, Yep…

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.”

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 

We are all familiar with the song, “Turn, Turn, Turn,” by The Birds.

“…there is a time for every matter and for every work.”

Ecclesiastes 3:17 

He is fully aware of Time, its restrictions, it’s reality for us. He is not condemning us for being concerned about Time. He created it, after all.

Nevertheless…

He views Time Differently Than Us.

“He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority.

Acts 1:7 

“But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.”

2 Peter 3:8 

Perspective. He has the Ultimate Perspective.

He knows exactly how finite we are.

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’”

James 4:13-15 

Most of us, most of the time, operate under the illusion that we have plenty of time to do things.

To put off doing things. To make things right. To “get around to it.”

However, for those of us diagnosed with something as serious as cancer in our lives, that assertion is challenged.

Being a “cancer survivor,” myself, I am much more aware of time.

It’s not a new thing.

How many of us are preoccupied with mortality thoughts?

A diagnosis, an advanced age, a “near-death” accident, and life changes, in general, can all serve as wakeup calls.

Do we wake up?

How awake are our ducks? Are they in a row?

How does our loving Father see that reality for us?

If we are honest with ourselves, the answer is quite grim.

Hence, out of That “Father Time” Love, He created The Answer…

“But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.

Mark 13:32 

Yes, His Son.

Our Savior.

Our Messiah.

Son Time…

“Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.”

Romans 13:11 

Time has Our Messiah written all over it.

He is the Eternal Promise of Salvation.

He outlasts Time.

He is “the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

Even so, there is the caution regarding Him…

“Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, ‘There is peace and security,’ then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape.”

1 Thessalonians 5:1-3 

There is a sobering, cautionary urgency to that of “The Son,” within the context of Time. We are not to be complacent.

“Unexpectedly,” is the urgent warning.

Will we be ready? How will He find us? How will we find ourselves?

Are we ready?

How do we get and stay ready, even as finite and flawed as we are?

“And saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of The Most High is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel.’”

Mark 1:15 

Repentance.

Acknowledging our sinful nature, asking forgiveness of it.

“Who can understand his errors? Cleanse me from secret faults. Keep back Your servant also from presumptuous sins; Let them not have dominion over me. Then I shall be blameless, And I shall be innocent of great transgression.”

Psalm 19:12-13

Turning our heart, our actions, and our intentions to change, in His Direction.

“For he says, ‘In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.’ Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of Salvation.”

2 Corinthians 6:2 

And yes, we need a lot of help doing that.

Precisely why there exists the famous scripture, John 3:16…

“For The Most High (Our Father) so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Our Savior is Our Necessity.

There is no getting our ducks in a row WITHOUT Him.

So, now what? We know that we have a Creator Father, Who, out of His Sovereign Love and Mercy, gave us His Son.

But we live as flawed, sinful people in a toxic and challenging world. How do we cope? What is our responsibility?

Part of the answer?

We are to be led by His Spirit.

Spirit Time…

“And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever.”
John 14:26

I will send you the Comforter.

Guidance. Being led and soothed. This is The Nature of His Spirit.

And yes, it applies to time… and our purpose within that time.

“Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.”

James 4:14 

“Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring.”

Proverbs 27:1 

We Need To Be Taught.

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Psalm 90:12 

Being guided is part of the teaching.

We are finite.

“Remember how short my time is! For what vanity you have created all the children of man!”

Psalm 89:47 

His Spirit knows this about us.

We only have so much time to live out, to grow, to achieve, to become the embodiment of His Purpose, uniquely wrapped up in the individuals we are.

Time is a priority. What needs to be accomplished within that timespan?

Again, my cancer diagnosis has given me more of an acute sensitivity to this sobering reality.

How long will I live, especially with the widely agreed-upon, death sentence of cancer?

How many days do I have left?

How many special moments, holidays, birthdays, and commemorations do I have left?

What do I want to focus on?

More importantly, what does The Most High want me to focus on?

It’s about executing that.

Especially IF I “am dying.”

A diagnosis may heighten things.

But the truth is that we are all dying. Some have more days than others.

Some have more “Time.”

Ducks in a row.

Getting affairs in order.

Being ready.

It’s not a one-time event, a lot of the time.

It’s ongoing. Repetitive. Daily. It’s intentional.

It’s a decision. It’s a priority.

“Not that I have already attained or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.”

Philippians 3:12

And it’s not perfect, as we are not perfect human beings.

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of The Most High.”
Romans 3:23

His Spirit also knows this about us. And He is not overwhelmed by that.

My Times are in Your Hands.

At this time of year, we are about to celebrate The Feast of Trumpets.

Also known as Rosh Hashana.

Yom Kippur.

These are wake up calls. Checkpoints. Check-ins.

Opportunities to self-reflect.

“My times are in Your hand; Deliver me from the hand of my enemies. And from those who persecute me.”

Psalm 31:15

It’s not about panicking. But it is about utmost importance. Where do we find ourselves right now?

Scripture tells us that we are “daily loaded with benefits” (Psalm 68:19).

Again, Time.

Do we ask for help WITH that Time, known as our life?

“But you, O Lord, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid!”

Psalm 22:19 Bottom of Form

Someday, our lives will be required of us.

Someday, we will answer for our lives, what we did concerning The Salvation Work of The Cross (Philippians 2:10-11).

Are those ducks in a row?

They are the most important kind.

“…make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!”

Psalm 39:4 

ABBA FATHER-

We come to You, in the Name of Your Son, Our Savior, Yahshua.

We ask for Your help with Time.

Not just with the practical daily things in life, even though yes, You and we recognize they are important.

But we ask for help with “the bigger picture” of Our Purpose. We know that time is built into that also.

Help us, favor us, lead us, guide us, and protect us as we live out that unique purpose.

Each one of us IS unique. Therefore, our individual purpose is also, likewise, unique.

Govern our entire lives.

May we truly glorify You, with all of our “ducks being in a row.”

Thank You,

We receive Your Loving Interaction and Help in our lives now,

In Yahshua’s Name,

Amen.

 

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Daddy Issues: The Adoption Agency

“But you, O (YAH)God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand… You hear…the desire of the afflicted; You encourage them, and You listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more.”

Psalms 10:14; 17-18

I am not trying to find my “birth parents.”

That adoption agency doesn’t exist. I have spent many years trying to find it.

I am seeking “The Father of Lights” (James 1:17).

I seek Daddy. Abba.

Now, perhaps, more than ever, as I am an orphan.

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”

John 14:18

My mother died late last year.

So, grieving her, in veritably means grieving him.

“…Thou art the helper of the fatherless.”

Psalm 10:14

Twenty-two Father’s Days ago, I spoke with my dad for the last time. I didn’t know then it would be that. Hindsight only later visited me, to “rub it in.”

My dad was abusive. I did not have a loving, warm, father-daughter relationship with him. It was not for lack of trying on my part.

Never experiencing the unconditional love and approval of my dad, I learned I had to “earn” it.

Even though I never did.

Even though I was set up to never achieve earning it.

“All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.”

John 6:37

Years of focusing on pleasing, on being a “good girl,” on winning trophies, ribbons, scholarships and awards, on making Straight A’s, years of gradually, but thoroughly, developing eating disorders, plummeting to an emaciated two-digit weight only created a disinterested, criticizing, “not good enough” response.

“Under his roof,” throughout my childhood, I was at the mercy of an abuser.

Rages culminated with him hunting and chasing me from room to room, screaming at me, threatening who and what I loved, to destroy, all because his anger released such endorphins of pleasure in him.

He felt all-powerful.

Look at how he reigned; look at how he wielded his authority over a frightened child!

I managed to survive my childhood and become an adult. I was doing my best, dealing with my past in therapy.

Years ago, I was at a point in my life where I had become more connected with my faith. In fact, I was “inspired” by the Father’s Day Sunday church sermon that morning. I decided to call my dad and wish him Happy Father’s Day.

This was big.

I had not seen or spoken to him in years. My husband and I had relocated to the West Coast; my parents remained on the Minnesota farm. I thought there was now enough distance, emotionally and geographically, to safely make the call; and surely, enough time had passed.

I called my eighty- year- old dad.

My mother answered and was surprised to hear my voice. She gave the phone to him and, right away, I heard his irritation and confusion. I knew he had a series of mini strokes over the past ten years, for which he didn’t seek any medical attention. I also knew he had difficulty hearing.

And again, we hadn’t been in contact with one another for years.

I thought I was braced for the realistic possibilities.

Yeah, sure, braced.

“Happy Father’s Day!” 

A few beats of awkward silence followed.

He growled, “Ain’t you doing anything?”

“When my father and my mother forsake me, then the LORD will take me up.”

Psalm 27:10

 I shouldn’t have been surprised at the hostile question. There wasn’t any loving relationship.

What part of abusive, toxic, unhealthy communicator did I not remember in this person, known as my male parent?

I quickly repeated my greeting and hung up.

I didn’t cry. I was too stunned to cry.

Why did I expect anything other than this?

There was never going to be anything that I could do that would constitute “doing anything...”

Doing anything worthy, anyway.

I wasn’t sure what to do with this exchange.

I felt horrible and regretted making this phone call.

Life moved on. The next month, my dad had a large stroke, hospitalizing him.

By August, he was dead. I did not get to him before that happened.

And cue complicated grief and devastation. Oh, and processing up the wazoo.

I still think about his last words.

They really were the perfect ones to define who he was, a taskmaster workaholic who was obsessed with making money. And I was not the male heir who would inherit the family farm and legacy.

I was the unwanted daughter and an only child.

Right from the start, when he learned of my arrival on the planet, he was disappointed and angry with the news. He was not passing out “It’s a girl!” cigars to his farmer buddies.

My dad stated he deserved more.

“A father of the fatherless...”

Psalm 68:5

Me, being this girl, was the insulting slap to his face.

Retaliation, of course, therefore, must be his response to me.

He took care of his financial obligations concerning me, but that was it. Don’t expect connection, love, approval.

Just don’t.

I’m the failure in his eyes.

And I’ve also been trying to undo my faulty belief I’m the failure in my eyes…

And Abba Father’s Eyes.

Fatherless. Father. Abba.

“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’”

Romans 8:15

Now, with the death of both of my parents, I am facing the daddy issues thing, all over again. But it goes beyond daddy issues. It cuts to fatherlessness, a level of orphan-ship that rips my heart.

With both parents gone, there is a void. Is it merely grief, specifically, the fresh grief concerning my mother? Is it re-traumatization from my death two decades’ ago?

Is it a deeper matter of faith?

What is bearing witness, right now, after everything I have survived in my life?

“For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one.”

1 John 5:7

Maybe what is going on right now is a fresher adoption process.

Understanding all things daddy and daddy issues, maybe through a different, newer adoption process, not only from “The Father of Lights,” but from the Son?

“…‘Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me… he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, ‘Show us the Father?’”

John 14:9

I have been walking, or stumbling, a faith walk for a long time.

Some of these “no-brainers,” therefore, should be fully understood, and walked with by me already, right? It should all be mastered effectively, completely, already.

Am I a failure, a hopeless, damned soul for not having perfectly executed this line of faith thinking?

Well, I take my pain questions to the Adoption Agency, as I know it, right now in this era of my life.

Abba. Daddy. Son.

All the Same?

Daddy issues? Yahshua issues?

Wanting to live that Spirit of Adoption.

How about you?

Abba,

In the Name of Yahshua, I come to you, filled with too many Daddy issues. Not just today, but every single day.

Please adopt me, “in Spirit and in Truth” (John 4:24), giving me Your Reality that You and Your Son are the same, adopting me, as is. Help me to love you, child-to-Daddy.

Thank You, Abba. Daddy.

In Yahshua’s Name, I pray,

Amen.

“My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand.”

John 10:29

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

The Bruised Prayer

“I am faint and sore bruised: I have groaned by reason of the disquietness of my heart.”

Psalms 38:8

Hardwood floors.

Time spent on my knees, in prayer.

“Pray without ceasing.”

1 Thessalonians 5:17

And this sucker.

I am healing from this half-dollar-size bruise on my knee right now.

I’m not Holier-than-Thou. This is just what happens when one takes the humbling posture of prayer on one’s knees, with no plush carpet involved.

In the meantime, while I recover, I’m using my bunny slippers as cute knee pads…

Yes, we can pray anywhere, at any time, in any posture: standing, seated, lying down, even upside down, if you are quirky.

Most people associate the universal “prayer posture” as being on your knees.

Most people agree that prayer is beneficial. Prayer works.

“Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.”

James 5:16

Most people would probably also agree that prayer is about heart issues. Asking for what we want, from our heart.

Sometimes, those requests are desperate.

And sometimes, yes, they are contrite.

“YHWH [is] near to the broken of heart, And He saves the bruised of spirit.”

Psalms 34:18

Begging for forgiveness and emergency action on a matter, usually of our own making.

People probably don’t think along the lines of how prayer is bruised.

A bruise is different than a cut, as far as wounds go.

It’s more complicated than a surface cut.

It is the accumulation of pain and blood, just under the skin.

It’s painful.

I once heard Moon Unit Zappa, daughter of Rock Musician, Frank Zappa, mention, as she recalled writing her memoir, that she was encouraged by a friend to “press on the bruise.”

That means, lean into the pain, lean into the contrite, broken, bruised spirit and heart.

Lean into the more complicated nature of the bruised prayer.

It HURTS! It’s tender; it’s sensitive.

The bruised spot doesn’t like to be touched.

Exactly.

That.

Exactly why He needs to touch it.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, A heart broken and bruised, O God, Thou dost not despise.”

Psalms 51:17

And that is painful. Not just obvious pain.

Complicated. Remorseful. Deep. Multi-layered…bruising.

That is the heart of the issues He wants us to bring to Him.

 

“A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth.”

Isaiah 42:3

“A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory.”

Matthew 12:20

“For thus said the high and exalted One, Inhabiting eternity, and holy is His name: 'In the high and holy place I dwell, And with the bruised and humble of spirit, To revive the spirit of the humble, And to revive the heart of bruised ones.'”

Isaiah 57:15

And, at the heart of His Desire for us to bring Him our bruised selves is Our Messiah.

“But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”

Isaiah 53:5

Yahshua. Our Savior.

He paid the price.

He checks all the boxes in Isaiah 53:5: wounded, bruised, absence of peace, and cutting stripes.

And Luke 4:18 further proclaims the Salvation Work of the Cross; He died FOR us.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.”

Luke 4:18

He CHOSE to be our Savior.

He did not need to do that. He could have opted out.

But He DIDN’T.

“…‘Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.’”

Luke 22:42

How bruised are you right now?

How bruised are your prayers?

Are you contrite?

Are you sorry?

Are you broken hearted?

If you are a member of Humanity, you qualify for The Savior.

He died for you.

Don’t let anything, including your broken bruised nature, convince you otherwise.

Accept Him- ask Him- to be your Savior, healing every bruise, seen and unseen. Ask Him to heal your life.

He already died to do just that.

Let’s pray.

Let’s allow The Savior to Save… even in our bruised condition: spirit, mind, body, and life.

Yahshua, I come to You right now.

Forgive me of every sin and bruise.

I accept that You died for my sins. You died for my bruises, my pain, my pathetic attempts to live my life on my own.

I recognize that I need You.

Thank You for dying for me.

Be my Savior. Help me to Live For You.

Thank You. I receive it now, by faith.

Amen.

“For thus said the High and exalted One, Inhabiting eternity, and Holy is His Name: 'In the high and holy place I dwell, And with the bruised and humble of spirit, To revive the spirit of the humble, And to revive the heart of bruised ones.'”

Isaiah 57:15

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Aspect Ratio

 

I hate Math.

Let me just put that right out there.

It was bad enough, doing long division on the blackboard, in front of the class.

I was stressed about “remainders,” carrying a 1 here, a 5 over there.

 

And then, with Junior High, Algebra.

Now we are mixing numbers with letters?

“X’s?” “Y’s?” “A’s” and “B’s,” dominantly featured, in lowercase?

Now there are equations.

 

Not long ago, two words popped into my head: “aspect ratio.”

I have no reason to entertain these words. I am an adult, long removed from the days of torturous Math and Algebra class. I didn’t pursue any degree in college where, according to consensus, I would use Algebra again.

 

 I’m a “word girl.”

Writing. Not solving equations.

Or, as cliché as it sounds, “so I thought.”

 

Aspect Ratio.

Its definition?

A noun, “the ratio of the width to the height of an image or screen,” as one definition listed.

“The aspect ratio of a geometric shape is the ratio of its sizes in different dimensions. For example, the aspect ratio of a rectangle is the ratio of its longer side to its shorter side—the ratio of width to height,[1][2] when the rectangle is oriented as a "landscape."

Ah! Geometry! Great!

Way too close to Algebra Land for my liking.

And still, furthermore…

“The aspect ratio is most often expressed as two integer numbers separated by a colon (x:y), less commonly as a simple or decimal fraction. The values x and y do not represent actual widths and heights but, rather, the proportion between width and height.”

 

REALLY? Seriously, what IS it about Algebra, anyway?

 

There is a theory which states that Art and Math are closely connected.

I squirm about that, but yes, even in my high school Art Class days, I could see some formulas, some geometric reality, having its impact on dimensions, ergo, Math.

The closest I came to it?

 

Learning about the concept and the definition of Perspective:

“Two seemingly parallel lines meet at a vanishing point on the horizon.”

 

An art class project, when I was a sophomore had the class draw, with rulers in tow, the high school’s hallway. A big part of this assignment involved capturing the lockers as they, indeed, “vanished,” at a certain point on the horizon.

The drawing of this hallway had everything center on the one lone window at the end of that hallway.

Lockers became slivers.

Mathematical slivers, depicting height, width, and depth.

And so, yes, I have discovered Math impacting Art.

 

And Art impacting… Faith?

 

Here is where I have found myself, intimidated by His love, like I was intimidated by Algebra, and those perspective sliver lockers.

 

Here is where that spiritual confrontation on Faith exists for me.

 

That addresses another perspective equation, perhaps, bringing some bumps and trauma to life, like those notorious Math classes and sliver lockers of yore.

 

“May have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.”

Ephesians 3:18

Wide:

My dad’s narrow hug.

Yes, I have Daddy Issues.

My childhood was abusive, filled with his explosive rages, controlling, stifling grip… and his neglect.

There were no hugs with my dad.

None.

There was an explicit understanding that I could not- and should not- go near him for those gestures of physical affection.

He rejected me, largely because I was female, and an only child.

No sons to carry on with his name.

Maybe he believed there was no legacy for a girl.

He may never have had the language to articulate that. He didn’t need to. The absence of loving hugs screamed loud enough.

Years ago, upon being newly engaged to my husband, I brought my fiancée home to meet my dad. I was almost feeling good about the state of my life, as good, I guess, as my moodier temperament could allow.

And so, I did the unthinkable. I initiated a hug with my dad.

And here, even though I didn’t know it at the time, was where I learned a lesson about narrow and wide.

My dad froze, on contact, with my hug.

I could feel his discomfort and disdain. He wanted nothing to do with this physical affection from me.

His response was narrow. He tightened up the entire duration of my hug.

I quickly pulled away. I knew the score.

Stop it.

And pretend it never happened.

So, spiritually, it should come as no shock to anyone that I’m challenged with that same view of The Most High’s “narrow” love for me.

No, it’s not His Nature. His Love defies explanation, definition, or understanding.

Yet, we mere mortals, at least, this this mere mortal, struggles with the narrow hug component of The Almighty’s Love, both with, and without, Our Savior.

It’s perspective, yes, my faulty perspective, at that.

And maybe, that should automatically get me booted out of the club.

But it doesn’t.

Over time, I am learning the newer dimensions and equations concerning the Width of His Love.

 

Survivors of abuse and trauma often involuntarily need to attend Master classes in such subject matters. Love, especially expressed through physical touch, is… tricky and painful. We only seem to know narrow, stifling, neglectful, harmful representations of it.

 

Notice the Scripture, then, before you, the fellow individual, struggling in this area, berates yourself too much…

“May have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people...”

Ephesians 3:18

There’s more than one of us out there.

More than one of us who has experienced the absence of loving hugs, the narrow and painful kinds of hugs that were only communicating rejection and harm.

There is more than one of us who is grappling with the painful Aspect Ratio of this devastating equation.

And there’s still more challenging dimensions to explore, aren’t there?

 

Again, for me, I was additionally challenged by the concept of length, as it pertains to love, specifically, His Love…

 

Long:

For me, length equals painful history.

My past? Not so distant.

Long, long ago…

 

When you and I hear that phrase, what comes up?

 

It’s probably not something positive. It probably has regret, pain, and failure attached to it. Maybe death and loss.

And even though it happened “a long time ago,” it still doesn’t, necessarily, instill a sense of closure or peace.

I can only speak for myself here.

I am grappling with Peace, as I face the length of things, things that maybe were supposed to be loving, but were more complicated, harsh, and painful than that.

Nothing captures that like good old death, huh?

Grief. Grieving.

An aggressive and excruciating state of being.

I am freshly into the latest incarnation of it right now.

My mother died late last year.

 

“Objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are.”

Not just concerning automobiles. Us. Our lives. Our memories.

Within this equation, there exists, again, perspective.

Two, seemingly, parallel lines, then and now, meeting together at a vanishing point, on the horizon?

 

But there is more to this?

Lowercase “x’s” and “y’s,” forming fractions and “story problems.”

Remember those, from childhood?

 

Maybe I’m dating myself, but story problems were a part of Math classes, in the third and fourth grade.

Not quite the dreadful confusion of Algebra, later.

Nevertheless, there was a more complicated essay/riddle component built into these “Math Problems.”

Trying to promote the child’s critical thinking. Trying to get them to examine further.

Much like, now, within our adult lives, when we self-reflect.

Most of the time, let’s be real.

Self-reflection involves painful and negative stuff, not the good times.

It is called “story problems” for a reason, right?

Length. Lengthy.

Endless, seemingly.

The duration of pain just keeps going, doesn’t it?

Grief captures length in an overwhelming way.

 

Scripture has much to say about grief and loss.

But, for now, let’s zero in on the spiritual length of His love…

“May have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how…long…is the love of Christ.”

Ephesians 3:18

It’s centuries long, literally.

Yahshua died on the Cross centuries ago.

Yet, even before that eternity-changing reality, The Most High loved us for a long time.

“In the beginning…”

Genesis 1:1

Try that long ago.

Hence, later, John 3:16…

“For (The Most High) loved the world so much, that He gave His only begotten Son, that that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

 

Many of us are confounded by the lengthy duration of painful life and past experiences, including grief.

Beyond a literal death, the past does represent loss.

After all, it is not here and now actively, in the physical sense.

 

But emotionally?

That’s a different story. A lengthy story.

 

Where are you, in yours?

 

I am slogging my way through mine.

I’m actively learning about the length of His Love. Making my way through the story problem.

 

Still more aspect ratio equation fun to be had?

 

How about height?

High:

How about a short stature dream from my adolescence?

When I was 18, I dreamt I kept standing on different chairs, of differing heights.

And each time I stood on top of one of these pieces of furniture, a voice from “someone” declared,

“No, still not tall enough.”

 

I am 5 feet 3, currently.

I say that, because, once upon a time, I was a towering 5 foot 4.

Because of aging, I am shrinking. I have dashed hopes of being 5’10.

I cannot even meet that dashed hope of 5’5.

Thumbelina is my increasing reality.

 

Short people are often a bit sensitive about the Height issue. It goes beyond aesthetics, although, yes, we have aspirational, attractive Glamazon Supermodels 5’10 and upward, for a reason.

Practically, there are challenges with reaching things. I have a step stool in our home, not because I have always desired to have one. I need one.

To get things on high shelves when there is no one taller than me around.

Height is a challenging thing.

We, vertically challenged people, can often get hyper focused on the deficit we see from our vantage point. We do not feel we can reach adequately.

And that spreads from literal, to emotional, mental, and self-assessment views.

However, The Most High also has a reach, a perspective, and equation, filling in vanishing points and mathematical impossibilities.

His Aspect Ratio is in full effect…

“May have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how…high… is the love of Christ.”

Ephesians 3:18

Height can speak to “being good enough.”

It is about measuring up, in some facet.

Think about when our parents measured our height changes on a wall, marking “the progress.”

What if we discover, one day, we are not rising in height, in progress?

What if we are even shrinking in this height, this stature of perceived value?

 

Well, try on 2 Corinthians 12:9, for size…

“His Strength- (His Height)- is made perfect in out weakness.”

 

 

Am I taking liberties with Scripture?

Hopefully not.

I see, through the measurement of Height, value and His Love, that He picks up where we leave off.

So, I am 5’3. I want to be 5’10.

Literal height issues, not much can be done there, barring a Divine Intervention growth spurt.

 

But spiritually? Involving His Love?

He knows that my faith is… petite.

Short.

Maybe even miniscule.

5’3, on a good day.

So, He fills in the height difference. Maybe He even adds a few inches…

“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.”

Ephesians 3:20

Now I am 6’5.

 

So, there’s been all kinds of measurement going on. Dimensions, numbers, equations, and theories are flying around.

We feel like the student in a Math class, in an Art class, in a Bible Study, perhaps.

Maybe we just feel like someone in the corner with a Dunce Cap on.

 

What does our knowledge mean to us?

How substantial is it, really?

 

Here’s now, where we arrive at another form of estimation.

Is it, or is it not “that deep?”

 

Deep:

I learned, wrongly so, at an early age, that I should avoid being vulnerable; it was only “weakness.”

Exposing the unflinching truth was to be avoided. It only promotes attack.

There’s no love to be found in vulnerable truth.

JUST DON’T GO THERE.

Surface level, only. No one deals with the Truth.

Since my cancer diagnosis years ago, I have become more open with others. Discussing more things that are not “pretty.”

Exposing my weak, pathetic self, I guess?

How much more, then, with the Sovereign Creator of all?

 

This is not to proclaim how spiritual and together I am.

It spotlights quite the opposite, in fact.

Most, if not all, of the time.

Pathetic. Needy. “In too deep” with ugliness, vile, unflattering portraiture.

 

Quite an equation. I would welcome some Algebra, in that reality.

Maybe, I desperately theorize, it could distract me.

 

But deep does not work like that.

Depth only seems to submerge more.

At least, I feel more submerged.

Drowning.

Not a pep talk, is it?

But is it real? Is it deep?

Is it Him?

“May have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how… deep is the love of Christ.”

Ephesians 3:18

I am trying to understand this Spiritual Math.

Faith slivers uncomfortably replace lockers from my high school art assignment. There is not even a reprieve in Art’s answers.

There are no other subjects or classes to take.

I am left with… Faith.

Intimidating equations that challenge, confront, and dismantle my so-called problem-solving abilities.

It’s called His Love.

His Aspect Ratio.

Sometimes, it’s incredibly painful and overwhelming.

Still, somehow, I am learning His Math.

“Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of The Most High that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:39

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Jairus’Daughter

“While He was still speaking, they came from the house of the synagogue official, saying, ‘Your daughter has died; why trouble the Teacher anymore?’ But (Yahshua) Jesus, overhearing what was being spoken, said to the synagogue official, ‘Do not be afraid any longer, only believe.’ And He allowed no one to accompany Him, except Peter and James and John the brother of James. They came to the house of the synagogue official; and He saw a commotion, and people loudly weeping and wailing. And entering in, He said to them, ‘Why make a commotion and weep? The child has not died, but is asleep.’ They began laughing at Him. But putting them all out, He took along the child’s father and mother and His own companions and entered the room where the child was. 

Taking the child by the hand, He said to her, ‘Talitha Cumi!’ (which translated means, ‘Little girl, I say to you, get up!’). 

Immediately the girl got up and began to walk, for she was twelve years old. And immediately they were completely astounded. And He gave them strict orders that no one should know about this, and He said that something should be given her to eat.“

Mark 5:35-43

Ta-Dah! Treasure

“So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; It shall not return to Me void, But it shall accomplish what I please, And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:11

In my attempt to be a “good Lutheran,” I attended Sunday services.

Sometimes, to qualify, as a teenager, for the standard confirmation classes, leading to the denominational rite of passage. It was about “being confirmed in the Lutheran Church.”

Quite important.

Sometimes, as an adult, I tried to find my “home church.”

No matter what age or stage I was, I spent many Sunday mornings in various churches, following along with the church bulletin.

Singing hymns from the hymnal. Going through the routine of “the service.”

It felt disconnected from the Bible. That gigantic book was a separate monolith, unto itself.

So, I kept mostly focusing on the bulletin, the hymnal, the “routine service.”

It didn’t take too long to memorize aspects of it.

It changed little, from Sunday to Sunday.

I had no idea I was on a treasure hunt.

Sure, I knew I wanted “more.”

I wanted to seek, to know “more.”

I wanted to seek and find HIM “more.”

I just didn’t feel I was doing it correctly most of the time.

Where was I going? Where was all this leading?

The term, “Rhema Word.”

“…Derived from ancient Greek, “rhema” translates to “that which is spoken.” In the context of religious texts, it denotes the utterances or teachings articulated by the divine. The term “Word of God,” on the other hand, encompasses the entirety of sacred scriptures, encompassing both written and oral traditions.

When amalgamated, it signifies the specific, spoken revelations or messages from the divine, elucidating the profound intimacy between the believer and the divine presence…”

What is the Rhema Word of God?

That was what was at play here. I had no idea the places it would take me.

From Lutheran Church to Lutheran Church.

From the Midwest, to the West Coast, to Dallas, Texas, back to the Midwest, and then, finally to the East Coast.

Where it finally “dawned on me.”

A “Rhema Word?”

Or a “Duh- Moment?”

It felt, almost embarrassingly so, as that second option.

For when this situation “dawned on me,” I was a grown woman who probably “should have” put the puzzle pieces together a lot quicker than I did.

After all, I was a person of faith for decades. I read the Bible. I memorized certain scriptures.

My faith walk was important to me.

Why was this “Duh- Moment,” then, such a “Rhema Word?”

Maybe, because I had mistaken His Word for a part of a church bulletin or service.

“Making the word of (YAH) God of no effect through your tradition which you have handed down. And many such things you do.”

Mark 7:13

“For laying aside the commandment of (YAH) God, you hold the tradition of men— the washing of pitchers and cups, and many other such things you do.”

Mark 7:8

My “Rhema Word?”

While in pain, in grief over my mother’s passing, in a major life changing era, I was drawn to Psalm 51.

There’s a lot of lamenting, begging for forgiveness, asking for cleansing there.

And something else, that was ALSO there?

“Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from Your Presence;

take not Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your Salvation,

And uphold me with Your Free Spirit.”

Psalm 51:10-12

Yeah, so?

Scripture. Uh-huh. We get it.

Nothing earth-shattering about that.

You happen to find Scripture in, I oh, don’t know… the Bible?

Ta-dah!

But it WAS Ta-Dah.

Origin- story- of- Lutheran- denomination- Ta-dah.

I did not put it together that, incorporated within all those Lutheran Church Sunday mornings, as part of “the service,” Psalm 51:10-12 was a built- in staple.

I, unfamiliar with the whole of Psalm 51, mistakenly assumed that this bit of singing was just a part of the “program,” lumping it in with the morning’s choice of hymns and recited declarations.

I had not “dawned on me” that no, this was actually His living Word.

And it came alive in revelatory power, just months ago, when I made the connection…

“Hey, wait a minute, I used to sing that. I still have it memorized. I was singing Scripture THE ENTIRE TIME?”

(You had to be there).

But “there” was where I landed.

After years, after living from place to place, after a faith walk that has been “complicated,” I arrived there.

And I found treasure. Ta-dah Treasure.

“I rejoice at Your word as one who finds great treasure.”

Psalm 119:162

It connected me to comfort, like, I suppose, was the entire point of Psalms 51.

My heart needed Psalm 51:10-12.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from Your Presence;

take not Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your Salvation,

And uphold me with Your Free Spirit.”

Sung then and there. Recollected, here and now.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Matthew 6:21

I have had other “Rhema Words” before in my life: Mark 5:35-43 and Mark 9:24 being two life-changing examples.

So, what was so special about Psalm 51:10-12?

For me now, at this point in my life, it serves as a bridge.

My past and my now.

It showed up, full force, now, letting me know I am more connected to Him than I realized I was.

That was startling to me.

I thought my Lutheran Church Sunday mornings were mostly a thing of the past.

But no.

Because it wasn’t about a Lutheran Church. It wasn’t about “then.”

It was about now, and how evergreen, how eternal and relevant He, AT HIS WORD, is.

Ta-dah!

I was… connected.

So yes, I did some rejoicing about that.

“I rejoice at Your word as one who finds great treasure.”

Psalm 119:162

 

ABBA FATHER-

We come to You, in The Name of Your Son, Our Savior, Yahshua.

Thank You that You ARE Your Word. And YOU, AS YOUR WORD accomplish was YOU set out to do (Isaiah 55:11).

Be that uniquely and lovingly for us, right now. Today. In our circumstances.

Be more than a “Rhema Word.” Be Yourself.

Show us Who You are to us.

Reveal Your Loving Nature through the Treasure of Your Word.

Make it come alive.

Teach and help us to learn Who You are.

Thank You.

In the Name of Yahshua we pray,

Amen.

 

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Don’t Ever Ask a Child, “Are You Dieting?”

Back to school.

I just started fourth grade. I was on the playground, at recess. “Mrs. K,” my teacher from third grade, was supervising, making sure no one fell off the monkey bars or beat up another kid.

She spotted me and greeted me. I felt special. Here was a grownup talking to me. I had respect for this teacher. Maybe now, as a fourth grader, I reasoned, I was finally mature enough to engage in conversation with an adult.

I was nine years old. I was finally “worthy.”

“Sheryle, you’re slimmer. Are you dieting?”

I felt flattered. I felt seen.

I guess, over the summer, I had a growth spurt.

I was an overweight child. I knew from being told, at age seven, that I was “fat.” I

 had been on diets with my mother already at this age. We had, as our goal to be at our “right weight.”

At age nine, I was self-conscious about being at a “wrong weight.”

So, this interaction with Mrs. K felt validating, transformative. I felt I received a grownup stamp of approval. I was now worth something.

Because of how I looked.

“You shall have no other gods before Me.”

Exodus 20:3

“Sheryle, you’re slimmer. Are you dieting?”

I know my third- grade teacher meant no harm by speaking these words. Perhaps, she honestly thought she was complimenting me and building my self-esteem.

Her words were out of ignorance, not malice.

However, those words still had harm built into them.

She didn’t know the disordered eating reality I was already learning at that young age. She didn’t know how I was made to feel less than because of my supposedly fat child body. (I wasn’t “fat.” I learned, years later, that I was merely a child growing, with the awkwardness that comes with that growth).

And, from a place of faith, she certainly wasn’t thinking that she was influencing idolatry.

But that’s what body image, dieting, and being a certain aesthetic are: idolatry.

She first let me know my image, one that was “slimmer,” was approved of.

“Better than” what I was before, I guess, as that third grader.

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of (YAH) God.”

Romans 12:2

She didn’t know that, as that new fourth grade student, I needed abundant reinforcement and lessons about seeing myself through The Most High’s Eyes, not anyone else’s eyes, especially the diet industry.

More importantly, I didn’t know I needed those lessons.

I could have avoided so much pain, and so many years of self-hate, had I been told, encouraged, and read for myself…

“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.”

Psalm 139:14

But, in that back-to-school moment, as that nine-year-old, I believed the grownup teacher.

I trusted that she would only tell me what was right.

So surely, me being “slimmer,” was good, even “better,” than who I was before.

Dangerous.

Do you see the dangerous teachable moment, whether anyone is aware of it?

“But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown into the sea.”

Mark 9:42

Scripture, here, may seem to be severe overkill. In that moment, I knew Mrs. K didn’t actively attempt to kill me.

It was slower, more gradual and more passive than that.

She didn’t plant the eating disorder seed. That was already sprouting from my family environment. It would take a decade before I was at a two-digit weight, emaciated, and punishing myself with up to six hours of exercise a day.

It was years later, when one eating disorder morphed into another one.

She didn’t know; she didn’t intend that to happen.

Ignorance, not malice.

“My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment.”

James 3:1

But this IS the caution, not just for schoolteachers, or even ministers of the Gospel, but for all of us. Adults, yes, but influencers and teachers have no age limit.

It is about influence.

We can build. We can harm, by how we show up and relate to others.

Childhood is referred to as “the formative years” for a reason. There is forming occurring. We are growing and changing.

And with “back-to-school,” this can be quite an obvious transformation process.

Kids come back from the summer having, for instance, grown six inches, getting braces, or getting braces removed from their teeth. Some kids lose weight; some “fill out.”

Whatever those changes are, there needs to be an awareness of how impressionable these young minds and hearts are.

As the influencer, be you teacher, coach, pastor, parent, or friend, please know your value system comes across to those around you. What you esteem as “good” or “bad,” “preferred,” or “rejected,” IS being taught to eyes and ears paying attention to you.

You hold sway.

Please make sure that the sway builds up, not tears down.

“…‘It is inevitable that stumbling blocks will come, but woe to the one through whom they come! It would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown into the sea than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.’”
Luke 17:1-2

What can you and I do?

Don’t call attention to body size and shape.

No matter how extreme the changes you may see in them are.

Be mindful that the person has heard, more than likely, how they look “wrong.” Don’t add TO that. Don’t “compliment,” either. That prioritizes value through image. That can add pressure to wrongly conform, like through a crash diet.

You may think and feel what you do about a person’s appearance. Don’t translate that into a “good or bad” estimation, speaking it to them.

Relate to them as the individual they are.

One thing Mrs. K did correctly?

She called me by my name.

“…‘I have called you by your name; You are Mine.’”

Isaiah 43:1

People love to hear their names. It’s about acknowledgement.

So, acknowledge.

Learn and call someone by their name. It signals “yes, I see you as you, not what you look like or what you do.”

Be mindful of our own thoughts.

Self-examination is spiritual.

Our thoughts, yes, influence others, for positive or negative.

But they also influence us.

“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he…”

Proverbs 23:7

What are we believing, saying to ourselves?

Is it causing harm? Is it helpful? Is it true?

We carry influence on others, yes.

But we also influence ourselves. And eventually, we go in the direction of our influencing thoughts. Is that where we want to go?

So, perhaps, we are saying words to ourselves like “fat” and “slim,” with value estimation attached to them.

What is that doing to and for us?

It’s doing something.

 Is it glorifying to Our Creator?

“Back-to-school” season is not just about getting new clothes and school supplies for the kids.

It can be a reminder of the reset.

Change. Change of the seasons. Growth.

And yes, education.

Let’s get better educated.

And let’s pray.

ABBA FATHER-

We come to You in the Name of Your Son, Yahshua.

Forgive us for our negative influence. We have caused harm to others, to ourselves, and have hurt you by what we believed and have said.

You know our thoughts; You “perceive them from afar” (Psalm 139:2).

Help us WITH those thoughts.

Heal them.

Let them glorify You and build Your Kingdom. That includes how we treat and speak to others and how we treat and speak to ourselves.

Heal us of wrong and harmful value estimations, placed upon us, knowingly or unknowingly.

Help us to learn, to accept, and to embody Your Truth.

Thank You.

We receive it all, in the Name of Your Son, Yahshua,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

 

Whiter Than Snow (Yes, You, Black Sheep!)

“‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the LORD. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they will become like wool.’”

Isaiah 1:18

Within many abusive dynamics, there is the emphasis of having family roles securely entrenched.

There is no such thing as an individual person.

Instead, there are roles to be fulfilled and played out.

One of those roles is that of “The Black Sheep.”

“The Black Sheep” is the role of the undesirable person.

This individual is usually saddled with all the blame and wrongdoing.

Issues, like addiction, abuse, poor relationships, financial woes, or anything else that is deemed to be painful, difficult, shameful, forbidden, or unpleasant, is often heaped onto “The Black Sheep.”

It’s decided that it is their fault.

And that poor soul is often shunned, bullied, and rejected; there is often no support for this individual. Cast as the role of “The Black Sheep,” he or she often must figure out life by themselves.

Many times, fully ostracized by toxic family system dynamics, this person leaves the family. Perhaps, he or she tried repeatedly for years, or decades, to “hang in there,” but, eventually, there is a breaking point.

Therefore, this person flees. They need to leave. They often do not want to leave.

Safety, health issues, and the demoralizing “unwanted” messages received by “The Black Sheep” become unbearable, and even dangerous.

“The Black Sheep” role is the lie for that individual.

Don’t get me wrong. The hellish, painful experiences are real; that is not the lie.

But the very role, one of constraint, agenda, and manipulation, IS.

Inherently, no human being is to be cast in “The Black Sheep.”

Each person, inherently, is a unique individual, created and loved by The Most High.

“The Lie” is assigned to “The Black Sheep,” with the negative connotations, as being tainted, dirty, undesirable, defective, unwanted, always at fault, and wrong.

Shame is usually attached to those assigned associations.

And, unfortunately, for “The Black Sheep,” it can eventually play out as a self-fulfilling prophesy. Poor behaviors and choices can result, due to negative self-esteem.

Unfortunately, a person can “live down” to other peoples’ negative view of them.

“The Black Sheep” believes the lie of who they were told they were.

And they act, in distorted agreement OF that lie.

“But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.”

1 John 1:7

There are significant reasons why Our Savior is regarded as “the spotless Lamb” (1 Peter 1:19).

“but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.”

 

“The next day John saw (Yahshua) Jesus coming toward him and said, ‘Look, the Lamb of (YAH) God, who takes away the sin of the world!’”

John 1:29

He is “spotless,” responding to our sullied condition, no matter how real or perceived it may be.

Yahshua loves all sheep, both black and white. He wants them all.

And He wants all of us, in the fold, to view and experience ourselves as clean, new, wanted, and loved.

He wants us to believe the Truth, not the lie.

“How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself unblemished to (YAH) God, purify our consciences from works of death, so that we may serve the living (YAH) God!”

Hebrews 9:14

“Scarlet sins” speak to each of us. Each of us, desperate for a Savior, is a “Black Sheep.”

“‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the LORD. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they will become like wool.’”

Isaiah 1:18

Like wool.

Sounds like the Sheep He sees us as all along.

We can be redeemed. We can be given our new identity.

“Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean; Cleanse me, and I will be whiter than snow.”

Psalm 51:7

Have you endured a “Black Sheep” lie in your life and circumstances?

Do you feel blemished? Stained? Defective? Wrong?

You and I are meant to be so much more that how life lied to us.

We are meant to live Truth.

Let’s pray, Fellow Black Sheep.

You are not “too lost.” You are not “too far gone.”

Abba Father-

We come to You in The Name of Your Sinless Son, Yahshua.

We ask that, from this point on, He be in complete control of our lives.

We accept that He paid the price for us, in all our shame-filled secret sins.

Forgive us.

Help us.

Thank You, however, that You, through the Redemptive Blood of Your Son, Yahshua Ha-Mashiach, have bought us back from death.

We receive it, in His Name, right now,

Amen.

 

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

Mint Chocolate Chip: The Prize?

“Looking unto (Yahshua) Jesus the Author and Finisher of our faith; Who for the joy that was set before Him endured The Cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the Right Hand of the Throne of (The Most High) God.”

Hebrews 12:2

Years ago, I caught an interview that Larry King did with Liza Minnelli.

The subject came up about getting through hard times.

If you are familiar with Ms. Minnelli, you know that she has had a challenging life: multiple marriages, addiction issues, and being the daughter of the late Judy Garland, who cast an enormous shadow for any child to reside in.

Larry King asked her what her strategy was for getting through those “tough times.”

She responded, “Well, I imagine the reward of Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream as the reward for whatever I’m going through.”

I get her point.

And, yeah, I have a background of disordered eating. I know that making food the focus, to the point where it is “reward,” or “comfort food,” is far from ideal.

The Most High is to be our reward and focus, not ice cream.

Yet, Liza Minelli’s statement brought up Hebrews 12:2 for me.

“Looking unto (Yahshua) Jesus the Author and Finisher of our faith; Who for the joy that was set before Him endured The Cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the Right Hand of the Throne of (The Most High) God.”

And there are connecting points. Our Savior and Ice Cream?

Yep.

Because it is about enduring the Cross… for the reward/prize/joy.

The challenge for each of us to is transfer, whether literal of figurative ice cream, for the sole, undivided focus of The Most High.

The challenge comes when we step forward and pattern our lives AFTER Our Savior’s steps.

And yeah, I guess there can be some ice cream, imperfectly positioned, along the way.

What are you enduring today?

What is your chosen reward for getting through the hard times, the difficulty, the pain, and the trials?

Where is HE in the middle of that process?

We’re all learning how to go “from Glory to Glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

It is an unfolding “becoming” process.

We learn it, with mistakes being made, along the way.

But the point is to not stop at the ice cream.

Ice cream is not the answer.

HE is.

He is the Author; He is the Finisher.

He supersedes Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream.

“Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good; Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!”

Psalm 34:8

 

Abba Father-

We come to You, in the Name of Your Son, Yahshua.

Help us, as we struggle to endure and focus on You.

You know what coping substitutes we have inserted in Your Place.

You know how we look forward to something else, whether it be ice cream, or any other temporary fix.

Forgive us for that.

Help us to change. Help us to change into becoming more like You.

You are Our Faith and Life Author; You are Our Faith and Life Finisher.

Take over our lives completely and help us learn to look to ONLY YOU as our joy and Our reward.

Help us learn how to follow You.

Thank You for loving us, through Your Son.

Help us to endure and to live that out, following Him each day of our lives.

We receive it now, In the Name of Yahshua, Our Savior,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

Orange Stumbling Block

“Therefore, let us not judge one another anymore but rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way.”

Romans 14:13

I’m allergic to Penicillin.

If I get a dose, I break out into hives.

If I get a LARGE dose, well, I could get A LOT bit dead.

Yep, Allergies.

It is best to pay attention to them.

Today, at a radiology appointment, getting x-rays for the situation that is potentially “underlying condition” me, I noticed this sign.

I didn’t know a person could be allergic to oranges.

I knew about Grapefruit. Peanuts. Eggs.

But not oranges.

Allergic Reaction.

Allergies and stumbling blocks are like one another.

They both indicate a weakness, a vulnerability, a susceptibility to harm, to a serious reaction, that could threaten life, health, and well-being.

Stumbling Blocks are… spiritual allergies, maybe?

Idols/Vices?

They certainly are these things.

“Son of man, these men have set up their idols in their hearts and have put right before their faces the stumbling block of their iniquity. Should I be consulted by them at all?

Ezekiel 14:3

Pick your vice; pick your issue.

Come on. You and I have them.

They don’t need to be obvious, illegal, or dangerous.

They can be anything that takes up too much of our thoughts, our time, our energy, or resources.

Spiritually, they are anything that competes with The Most High.

He wants our undivided attention.

Stumbling Blocks prevent that from happening, don’t they?

Kryptonite.

Something that has the capability to weaken, to hurt us, and to cause an unpleasant reaction, like an allergy.

This is Basic Humanity.

“For He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust.”

Psalm 103:14

That should be reassuring, right?

The human, flawed experience, however, IS a bit trickier.

He may know we are dusty frames, vulnerable to several different vices and idols…

But do we know that?

Because, after all…

A Stumbling Block would not be so destructive, dangerous, or unhealthy, were it not for the temptation element OF it.

“But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed.”

James 1:14

Temptation.

We WANT what is unhealthy, dangerous, life-threatening, costly, and distracting.

We WANT what can pull us off course. We fixate ON it.

It’s painful and difficult, as each one of us struggles with those captivating things.

(You know what yours are).

It, however, takes on a Love-Of-The-Most-High tone, emphasizing responsibility and stewardship on a spiritual level.

Now there is gravity.

It answers our cop-out question, uttered centuries earlier…

“Am I My Brother’s Keeper?”

“ …‘Where is Abel thy brother?’ And he said, ‘I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?’”

Genesis 4:9

Uh, yeah you are… or were…

(We know THAT situation did NOT go well).

But wait, there’s more…

“…‘Who are My mother and My brothers?’ Looking at those seated in a circle around Him, He said, ‘Here are My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of (The Most High) God is My brother and sister and mother.”

Mark 3:33-35

Okay, okay, okay, we get it.

Personal responsibility is HUGE here!

It’s about doing His Will. And Stumbling Blocks are contrary to that Will and Plan.

So much so, Our Savior was not done making His Point about them.

And it got a little intense…

“But He turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on God’s interests, but man’s.’”

Matthew 16:2

Peter was just called “The Rock,” the Foundation of The Christian Church, a little earlier.

Now he’s called Satan?

Yep.

Getting in the way of The Most High’s Will. Peter was coming from a place of tearing down, not building up.

“‘But as for you, you have turned aside from the way; you have caused many to stumble by the instruction...”

Malachi 2:8

Stumbling Blocks.

Don’t underestimate them. I guess that’s the message.

Awareness Or Ignorance?

But to do that, it requires awareness. It requires that we forsake ignorance.

That’s a choice.

We can opt out; we can opt in.

“Therefore let us not judge one another anymore but rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way.”

Romans 14:13

Years ago, when I was undergoing a course of radiation, I encountered signage in the Cancer Care Unit of my clinic.

These signs, like the Orange sign I encountered today, asked that people refrain from wearing perfumes, cologne, and anything that has a strong fragrance to it.

Cancer patients, especially those undergoing chemotherapy and radiation treatments, are extremely sensitive to anything that has strong chemical makeup. Like perfume.

Immune systems are compromised and weaker; people are frailer. It’s more difficult to walk and breathe.

This should be a no-brainer for us.

Just like people (you’d hope), wouldn’t dream of chain smoking and blowing smoke rings directly into a cancer patient’s face, one would also like to believe people would see the sign, heed the instructions, and not douse themselves with Chanel Number 5 and Calvin Klein.

But no.

I have been in the waiting room. And, what’s that I detect?

Strong fragrances.

And the sound of someone choking, coughing, wheezing. 

Having a reactive response, like an allergy.

Experiencing a form of Stumbling Block.

No, perfume is not the temptation.

It’s the complication, though, complicating a patient’s ability to breathe and be healthy, safe, and comfortable.

Awareness? Ignorance?

How do we explain the perfumed one in the Cancer Care Unit?

They made a choice, right?

What was it?

And why was it?

Did they underestimate the reaction from perfume and cologne?

Did they think that just because they didn’t have an issue with it, no one else would?

“But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.”

1 Corinthians 8:9

Or do they just not care?

Is it more important that they do whatever they want, bypassing anyone else’s needs and issues?

A lack of empathy?

Conscientiousness?

That’s what this whole Stumbling Block thing boils down to: empathy… love.

“The one who loves his brother abides in the Light and there is no cause for stumbling in him.”

1 John 2:10

Love for one another. Right?

“A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”

John 13:34

Isn’t that clearly understood?

It should be, right? As decent human beings?

Don’t hurt someone else?

Be conscientious that someone might have a struggle?

Let’s not make that situation worse and more painful than it already is?

I wonder, post-appointment today, how many people eat oranges within that radiology department?

How many people, despite the sign, still insist on Stumbling Blocks, of the Citrus kind?

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Laugh Track

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine...”

Proverbs 17:22

I’ll admit it; joy is challenging for me.

I say this, not to heap more doom and gloom, sorrow and despair, and lookie now, here come the boils and open sores.

I say this not as an act of faithlessness, although yes, it has doubt all over it.

Joy is not always the easiest thing to instantaneously obtain.

That’s part of the faith experience, with even, yes, doubts included in that.

“A time to weep and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn and a time to dance.”

Ecclesiastes 3:4

 

Many of us only have known despair in the scope of tangible experiences.

Tangible experiences are often also known as survival mode.

Coping. Just getting through the day. Or the next minute.

Just hang on.

That kind of thing.

Abuse. Poverty.

Horrific aftermaths of addictions, behaviors, choices, in which we become collateral damage.

We cope… with anyone and anything we can grab.

As a kid, one of those coping strategies was situation comedies.

“Sit-coms” were a lifeline as my childhood home was overrun with despair, depression, anger, and stifling control. As those became the only events I experienced, daily, I wanted the exact opposite.

Everyone loves to laugh.

I have never known of a person who absolutely detests laughing.

Sit-coms usually had a live audience taping, or, perhaps, the more cost-effective easier option of laugh tracks. Canned laughter simply inserted at the right punchlines of a television show.

As a child, I knew it was canned or “fake laughter.”

But I was desperate for any sign of joy, even if it was manufactured.

Even if it was today’s equivalent of AI.

Laugh tracks consoled me. Reassured me. It gave me a haven to let me know that, even in the joy-less home I occupied, I still could hear someone else laugh.

Even, via the manufactured laugh track, it came from imaginary friend territory.

Someone was happy; someone was laughing. Someone was experiencing joy.

When was the last time you laughed?

Can you remember the last time you did?

We don’t laugh enough.

Life can be heavy; it can suffocate the laughter we more easily, perhaps, tapped into as children.

And even our childhoods may have robbed us of that laughter that is synonymous with youth and joy.

Do you need some more laughter today?

Do you need joy?

Let’s turn to the Eternal Source right now, and pray.

Abba Father-

We come to You, in the Name of Your Son, Yahshua.

We fully turn to ask, believing and receiving Him as our Savior.

We need Him.

You know our lives have been challenged when it comes to both joy and laughter.

We need more of those things.

But, more importantly, we need more of You.

Take over our lives completely, helping us in every area, not just with joy and laughter.

Thank You that You will redeem our suffering.

We receive it now, In the Name of Yahshua, Our Savior,

Amen.

“Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.”

 

Luke 6:21

 

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Hiding Behind the Panda

“…there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed or hidden that will not be made known.”

Matthew 10:26; Luke 12:2

This time of year, with its county and state fairs in full swing, I’m reminded of an eating disorder memory.

The summer before my sophomore year of college, I was at my lowest weight, riddled with Anorexic beliefs and behaviors. I weighed a two-digit weight, and my condition elicited concern from numerous friends and family members.

Still, I was determined to let nothing, and no one stop me. I was solely fixated on my goal of being thin, to an emaciated degree. I wanted no one to interfere as I went about my daily life.

And I thought I would achieve that as I decided to go to the Minnesota State Fair in late August.

Not so fast.

By now, my disordered eating tendencies felt as close to my normal routine as they could be. I got up early that morning, engaged in my punishing exercise, non-eating, and grooming routines. I wore a “normal” white t-shirt and jean shorts. There was, to my knowledge, nothing attention-grabbing about my presence.

But my fair-going experience would quickly show me otherwise.

For, as I walked the long stretch of the fair site, I noticed people’s stares. I seemed to run into families with young children. And the children, as filter-less as they are, gawked and pointed.

Although I could not hear the interactions, I suspected they were asking their parents what was wrong with me.

I saw disgust on the adults’ faces.

They could not get away from me fast enough. I had at least three of these encounters.

I wanted to convince everyone, even in this fair setting, I was “fine.” And it irritated me that people seemed to “know,” to be bothered, appalled, or fearful about my presence.

I wanted to believe I was doing well; I was not out of control. I was not sick. And, in this anonymous circumstance, strangers were disputing my well-being. I believed, sure, my family and friends who expressed their concerned thoughts were one thing; they could operate in a personal agenda to hurt me.

 

But total strangers?

And here’s where, I encountered the powerful impact about two or three witnesses…

“…In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.”

2 Corinthians 13:1

“But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established.”

Matthew 18:16

I was a skeleton.

Dressing me up for fun at the fair did nothing to change that. Neither did my desire to persuade others I was “normal.”

Still, I was thoroughly convinced I could blend in and not appear like I had a problem.

So, I decided to look like even more of a festive fairgoer.

I bought one of those huge stuffed panda bears and proceeded to walk around with that sucker for the rest of my experience.

Hey, c’mon. Look how happy I am; I have this gigantic bear!

I know.

But my panda strategy backfired.

For now, people’s attention wasn’t just pulled to the walking skeleton, but to the exaggerated image of a walking skeleton lugging an enormous stuffed animal around on a hot and humid summer day.

And make no mistake about it, that panda became quite heavy very quickly.

Plus, there was a large black Hefty bag I tried carrying the bear around in, to make things easier and more comfortable.

It didn’t work.

The Hefty bag drew still more attention to the skeleton and her panda.

The Great Minnesota Get Together! Let’s all go to the State Fair!

Point at the Skeleton Freak Show with your corn dogs.

I still clung to the delusion I could hide behind the panda’s cuteness. I believed it would camouflage my unflattering reality.

Throw a huge bear at it- exactly!

And I was oblivious to the Truth, bear or no bear: secrets get exposed.

“For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither anything hid, that shall not be known and come abroad.”

Luke 8:17

“For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open.”

Mark 4:22

And, since eating disorders are all about secrecy, they’re up to the same fate as anything else is.

Yikes.

Eating disorders and their insidious, sick thought processes, include…

I know what I’m doing.

I’m in control.

I’m fooling everyone.

I don’t need help.

No one knows what’s really going on.

 

What are you hiding behind?

Perhaps it’s not a humongous teddy bear, but it is something, isn’t it?

For those of us in recovery from food and body image issues, the challenge is to identify the need to be presented in a particular light.

And then, from there, we need to confront our chosen props created to distract, to deny, to lie, and to hide.

Often, we can get so consumed by that obsession, we completely bypass the liberation which waits on our decision to embrace it…

“…the truth will set you free."

John 8:32

The Most High’s blessings far outweigh our hiding.

So, let’s come out from the dark and walk in empowering light!

Without the big bear.

Abba Father-

We come to You, in The Name of Your Son, and Our Savior, Yahshua.

You know we are hiding.

You know what we are hiding behind.

Forgive us and help us concerning that.

Heal the toxic secrecy that is not of You. Help us to walk in and glorify Your Truth.

Help us to heal from whatever it is that we are hiding from. We know we cannot hide from You.

Let us feel Your Love in that reality.

Thank You.

In Yahshua’s Name, we pray,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse

Noisy or “Still, Small Voice?”

“I am the Good Shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me.”

John 10:14

I love this little guy.

Look at how his ears just perk up. There’s an attentive, surprised look on his face.

And he’s quiet.

Noise.

It can be a challenging obstacle for even the most focused of us.

Noise and distraction go hand in hand.

We are all familiar with The Good Shepherd, in theory, in imagery, and yes, for us Believers, in sought after and applied Truth and relationship with Him.

Probably, the most famous Scripture, depicting this Shepherd, second to “The Good Shepherd” (John 10:10)?

 

 “A psalm of David. The LORD is my shepherd; I have all that I need. 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

Notice, however, there is no mention of noise or distraction.

Yeah, sure, we as sheep, are “led.”

 

But what is the gritty reality of that leading, especially when everything and everyone, so often, competes for our attention, leading us elsewhere, and yeah, getting us “lost?”

 

Scripture reiterates how we are His Sheep, and recognize- and follow- His Voice…

“The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice.”

John 10:3-4

“But you don’t believe me because you are not my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me.”

John 10:26-28  

 

How does this happen, with surety?

How do we follow?

“But he led his own people like a flock of sheep, guiding them safely through the wilderness. He kept them safe, so they were not afraid; but the sea covered their enemies.”

Psalm 78:52-53

Imprinting.

I think it has to do with imprinting.

 

Some kind of spiritual GPS. A tracking device. Some kind of activation coded, embedded in us.

 

I have never been around sheep.

But I have had an experience with, perhaps, a sheep-adjacent creature: a fawn.

When I was a kid, for a week, I was entrusted with this baby deer.

It was lying within my family’s grove.

It was by itself.

 

Orphaned?

I’m not sure.

 

Wildlife experts state that if you see a fawn, by itself, there’s often nothing to be alarmed by.

Mama will be back soon.

The offspring is just resting and waiting, with its spots serving as camouflage.

 

Anyway, this sweet creature, resting alone in our grove, was scooped up by my dad.

And presto, change-o! I have a pet.

Not a puppy. Not a kitten.

A Fawn. I named it Bambi.

(Not an original choice of names, but I was a kid. I loved Disney).

 

This little being was dependent.

We bottle fed it cow’s milk.

It slept in my bedroom.

It was loveable and helpless, like sheep.

 

And here’s where the imprinting comes in…

That fawn, Bambi, followed me everywhere!

 

As we walked around on the farm, whenever there was too much physical distance between us, I heard the heart-grabbing, desperate bleat.

 Like that of a lamb.

Hearing that call, I would rush toward it, pick it up, hug it, try to reassure it.

 

Yes, “Mama” is here.

Even though, “Mama” was a seven-year-old girl.

It didn’t matter to this baby animal.

It imprinted on me.

 

It followed my movements and the sound of my voice.

 

That, to me, seems representative of the Lost Sheep Parable (Luke 15:2-7).

 

Our Shepherd, like each sheep, is also imprinted upon us.

He has a code to know and hear our distress signals and our whereabouts.

 

That’s why He leaves the 99 for the one stray that’s probably tangled up in a thicket somewhere.

 

He knows, He hears, He sees, and He locates.

 

We, on the other hand?

Well, that’s a little trickier.

 

Even with spiritual GPS, we still are challenged by sensory experiences.

 

And that has to do with how still and silent we can be, in response to noise and distraction.

 

Still and Silent:

“Be still and know that I am The Most High. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

Psalm 46:10 

Well, this is something I struggle with.

Spiritually, I guess I squirm… a lot.

Many of us are squirmers.

 

And then, there’s the matter of my yapper.

Noise.

Talk, talk, talk.

 

And listening? In silent stillness?

Eh… That needs work.

“The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

Exodus 14:14 

Stillness and silence work together.

“And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.’”

Mark 4:39 

The Still, Small Voice?

Getting quiet.

It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?

The truth is, with us sheep, we are soothed by distraction, whatever form it takes.

Noise. Business. Go-go-go. Movement.

Modern-day life demands that we keep pace. It demands that we obey the noise.

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the LORD. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.”

Isaiah 55:8

Our thoughts are noisy. Chaotic.

In dire need of some sheep wrangling.

But He is softer, quieter, most of the time.

There is a reason why the phrase, “still, small Voice” is often repeated.

It’s not just a cool or clever thing to say.

It is a “still, small Voice.”

Notice, both approaches to Him, and to being led, in Love and Wisdom, are found within that phrase…

“Still,” as in, quit moving, quit squirming, quit fidgeting, quit going over here, going over there…

AND…

“Voice,” meaning sound, further emphasized by “small.”

Not yelling. Not hoopla. Not screaming.

“Small Voice.”

I admit it. I’m still not all that expert-level when it comes to adhering TO the “Still, Small Voice.”

But there have been some stand-out occasions.

For me, in broad terms, it goes along the lines of hearing things like…

“What don’t you…?”

“Hey, try this.”

And sometimes, it’s a “boop” of an idea that settles in my mind.

Specifically?

“The Still, Small Voice” encouraged me to join a life-changing church, over twenty years ago. It wasn’t what I was used to, having come from a denominational background.

But I gave it a whirl.

And out of that decision, my first book, “Thin Enough: My Spiritual Journey Through the Living Death of An Eating Disorder” manifested.

And, more soberly, and more recently, I believe that “Still, Small Voice” prompted me to write a letter to my mother.

We were estranged. I had gone “no-contact” with her for almost five years. I was committed to keeping that status in place.

And then…

“Write your mother a letter.”

I argued against that notion, as I usually do.

But I heeded.

I feared the negative can of worms that would result from writing the letter.

But I did it, anyway.

I said some painful things in the letter; I also told her that I loved her.

I sent it.

A week later, my mother was dead.

Still. Small. Voice.

Had I not heeded it, the regret, upon hearing news of her death, would have painfully complicated my grief.

Instead, I have a measure of peace.

Head to the Pasture.

“Acknowledge that the LORD is The Most High ! He made us, and we are his. We are his people, the sheep of his pasture.”

Psalm 100:3 

Sheep are known for mostly one locale: a pasture.

“Human Sheep,” however?

Well, we seem to inhabit every kind of environment: cities, apartment buildings, houses, high rises, parking lots, drug dens, brothels, bars, and schools, just to name some options.

And churches. We must not forget about church.

The word, “pasture,” however, speaks to more than just a geographical environment. It speaks to the place of our heart and soul: our mind, our will, and our emotions.

That’s often where we truly get “lost.”

Not in physical space, in a heart/soul space.

That’s where we struggle with moving; that’s where we struggle with deafness.

Some of us don’t even know we are supposed to reside in a spiritual pasture. We try out ever other locale and “solution.”

We become more paralyzed, and deafer, in the process.

And then, some of us even twist our definition of “pasture.”

We assert our independence, code for rebellion.

We rebel.

We decide WHAT our pasture will be.

You know, like sheep, the less- flattering version of these fluffy creatures…

“We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”

Isaiah 53:6

But through our “Good Shepherd,” you and I CAN come back.

We have spiritual GPS.

He IS calling us back.

And we CAN hear Him.

We can move into stillness, into His peaceful pasture.

We belong to Him.

“Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will thank you forever and ever, praising your greatness from generation to generation.”

Psalm 79:13

 

ABBA Father-

We come to You, in The Name of Your Son, Yahshua.

You know we are vulnerable. Helpless.

We are sheep, in desperate need of a Shepherd. You know how we have struggled and failed to listen to and follow You in our lives.

But You are still committed to shepherding us.

Thank You.

You love us that much, that You have provided the ULTIMATE sacrifice to atone for our sins.

Not just a Lamb, but The Perfect Shepherd Who is acquainted with all our weak sheep issues.

We ask for Him, therefore, to fully be our Shepherd, in every one of our ways.

Heal us, restore us, and help us to listen to and follow only Him.

Help us to glorify You as we walk, numbered, loved, and secured in His Flock.

We receive it, in Yahshua’s Name,

Amen.

Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse