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Every
now and then God pulls back the curtain between the seen and the
unseen world and reveals a bit about Himself and His work in our lives.
The best known example of these "behind the scenes" glimpses is the book of
Job. During my years as a follower of Jesus Christ I have been granted a
peek here and there as well as interesting perspectives on everyday events.
I call these encounters sightings.
I plan to use this page to share these sightings with you. We live in
incredible times and, with the help of the Holy Spirit, I am personally
growing and learning more as each day unfolds. Feel free to contact me
about anything you read here - or even about topics or issues you don't
find here. I would enjoy hearing about your own sightings.
NOTE: For more from Sandra link to her blog here.
Walking with a Friend
Taking a walk with a friend seems like a straightforward activity, but you never know when God will show up with a special lesson to challenge you. That’s what happened to me earlier this week when I went for some early morning exercise.
I overslept a little and had to call my friend to make sure that we were still on for that morning. You see, it was kind of damp outside and I'm not one to walk in the rain. My friend laughed, reported that it was only misty and said she was walking whether I went or not. A bit chagrinned, I agreed to meet her at the fairgrounds. I threw on my clothes and drove to the parking area.
Our usual routine is that we wait for each other and enter the fairgrounds together. My dog was particularly excited to be out so I let her through the gate. I followed her past the gatehouse. Frankly, I was surprised that I’d arrived ahead of my friend and began watching the corner for her car. Being the goal-oriented, action-based person I am I was anxious to get to the task at hand and start making my way around the track.
My thoughts went something like this:
Okay, Friend, where are you? I’m here and ready to walk. I was the one who got up late and now I’m here before you. What’s the deal? Oh, silly me, I probably got ready so fast that I’m way ahead of time. What time is it anyway?
I pulled up my sleeve to check the time and realized I was in such a rush that I forgot my watch. Grrrr.
Hey, my daughter Sunnie is always using her cell phone to check the time. I bet I can use my cell phone to find out if I’m early or my friend is late.
I went
to the car and got my cell phone. I turned it on as I went back through the
fence. Meanwhile my dog was running around exploring, happy to be out in the
open space.
Ahhhh, now
I’ll be able to figure out what time it really is. Let’s see, that’s the
opening screen. Oh yes, I remember seeing the time displayed in a band across
the bottom. I wonder how I can find that feature.
I scrolled through various menus, screens and titles wasting more precious walking minutes. I finally had to admit that I couldn’t make the clock pop up. I’ve never been good with technology and usually defer to my daughters or any available young person to help me out in a pinch. This time I was alone in the middle of a field developing the motivation to strangle my cell phone.
Okay, Sandra, this is not a plot to destroy your day. Slow down and figure it out. When is it that you’ve seen the time displayed on the cell phone screen? Hm, that usually happens when the phone’s been left on and not used for a while. When I pick it up to make a call I notice the time is displayed. So . . . all I have to do is leave it alone and when it goes into the hibernate mode the clock will probably appear. That makes sense.
All I have to do is leave the cell phone alone and it will deliver what I need.
But you don’t understand, I want to know what time it is now. How can I possibly just stand here and wait for some silly little piece of metal to get ready to tell me the time? That’s ridiculous. There must be a way to make the clock appear when I want it to.
I spent several more minutes pushing as many little buttons as I could to get what I wanted. I continued to watch for my friend’s car to turn the corner. My dog found more interesting things to investigate.
You know, Sandra, every time you touch the keypad you’re delaying the feature that makes the cell phone go to sleep and give you the time. Just stop pressing buttons. . . . But I don’t know how long that process will take and I want to know the time right now. Push, push, push.
I finally had enough, shut off the frustration, and put the offending machine in my pocket. My friend arrived and I opened the gate to welcome her and her dog. I related the story about forgetting my watch and trying to find the time on my cell phone. She made the observation that there might be a lesson hidden in the scenario. I wasn’t sure I could buy the idea.
We made our way around the oval path as we shared casual conversation. The dogs played together and enjoyed the sweet morning air. After a few laps I realized I should check the time as I had a meeting I needed to attend. I reached into the pocket of my sweatshirt and pulled out the cell phone. Sure enough, the time was displayed in the band across the bottom of the screen. All I had to do was leave the situation alone, attend to the activity at hand, and I got what I needed. Maybe there is more to this scenario.
Thank you, Lord, for another glimpse of your world. Please continue to teach me your ways and make me sensitive to your leading. Amen.
The New Year - A Shower and Some Soap
A dear
friend came to visit at our home beside the lake. It was a glorious time of
reunion as we had not seen each other in several years. She left me a gift
wrapped box in appreciation of my hospitality. How was I to know that God
would use such a typical expression of thanks to teach me a powerful truth?
I unwrapped the package and was reminded of Cynthia’s tender spirit. The name on the little box was that of a well known women’s shop that carries fragrances in a variety of forms. I knew it was a stretch for her to make such a purchase.
It made
me feel cherished and cared for before I even looked inside. When I lifted out
the bar of soap its fragrance wafted over me. It was light and fresh,
reminding me of a flowery meadow. I could hardly wait to use it in the
shower.
It is not an exaggeration to say that for the next days and weeks my
experiences with personal hygiene were elevated from the mundane to the
sublime. After I tended to my hair and basic cleanliness, I lathered myself up
with my special soap. I drank in the fragrance with deep breaths and prayed
that it would soak into my skin and be released throughout the day.
Every
frothy experience was a reminder that Cynthia valued me so much that she
purchased this gift at that exclusive store just for me. I found myself
basking not only in the lavish foam, but also in the love expressed in such a
personal, extravagant, sacrificial gift.
I’m not
really sure when it happened. After a while, I began to notice that the
fragrance wasn’t staying with me through the day any more. I missed the light,
refreshing lift it gave me. At first I thought I must have been in a rush and
forgotten to use my special soap that day. The next time I remembered, I
lathered up and let the foam sit. Somehow the situation didn’t improve. Even
when I focused on it, I wasn’t getting the same rich experience I had at the
beginning.
Several
fragrance-less weeks went by and I knew I had to solve the dilemma. Life just
wasn’t the same without the appointment with my special gift. What could be
wrong? I had been using the soap for a while. Perhaps it was manufactured with
fragrance only on its outer layers. If its fragrance was used up, I would
simply have to buy myself another bar. I would have to investigate the next
time I took a shower.
Yes, the
bar was indeed smaller. As I rubbed it on my skin its fresh, airy fragrance
was indeed missing. I began to plan my trip to the mall. However, when I went
to put the soap back on the shelf, I noticed that it was about the same size
as the other one laying there. Hm, could it be that they somehow got switched?
Had I unwittingly gone back to using the old, bland soap?
I gave
it a try and, sure enough, the bar on the shelf was my very own gift soap. It
had been there all the time, as pungent as ever, ready for my efforts to
release its fragrance. Through my breath to my fingertips and toes I
remembered its abundance. What a joy it was to re-experience the pleasure of
basking in opulent lather. Once again my days are filled with the fragrant
reminder of my friend’s special love and care.
When I
went back to using my special gift soap the renewed experience was sweeter
than ever. The reminder of the blandness of the old soap has caused me to
deepen my commitment to this special treat. When it is finally gone, I will
replace this bar with a similar one from the same specialty shop. It will be
an added expense, but I know it is worth the commitment and the cost.
Almost
immediately the Holy Spirit came knock, knocking on my door. He used the
details of this story to remind me of spiritual things. When I first accepted
Christ as my Savior I drank in the fragrance of God’s grace and basked in His
love. I was faithful in my quiet times to “lather up” in His word. My daily
devotions would soak into my soul and release fragrant reminders through the
day of my Father’s love and care.
Sometimes I get off track. I’m not really aware when it happens. Every now and
then I begin to notice that the fragrance isn’t staying with me through the
day any more. I miss the light, refreshing lift it gave me. At first I think
it’s because I was in a rush and forgot to have my devotions that day. The
next time I remember, I grab my Bible and quickly read a verse before I head
out the door. Somehow that doesn’t improve the situation much. I don’t get the
same rich experience I had at the beginning. (see above)
After some fragrance-less time goes by, I know I have to solve the dilemma. Life just isn’t the same. I stop to investigate and find that I have picked up a bland, substitute for my regular devotional time before the Lord – just as I substituted the bars of soap.
I need
to be willing to accept the added expense of time - just as I was willing to
accept the expense of a bar of fancy soap. I conclude that the blessings I
will receive are well worth the commitment and the cost – just as I concluded
that the lift I would receive was worth choosing and paying for fancy soap. I
am chastened, repentant, and reconciled.
Every
time I return to bask in the “opulent lather” of time with my God I am
reminded of the grace and love that He showers on me - personal, extravagant,
sacrificial gifts. The opportunity for divine fellowship is as pungent as
ever, ready for my efforts to release its fragrance into every moment of my
day. Thank you, Lord.
That Still Small Voice
It was a
bad day. Nothing was going right. I woke up late and had to skip breakfast to
make it to my appointment. I stubbed my toe as I made my way into the bathroom
to brush my teeth. The empty hanger refused to return to its place and
rebelliously dove to the closet floor. The traffic was horrible and all the
lights turned a rebellious red. I arrived fifteen minutes late and had to
apologize profusely, not a favorite activity.
Why did
they have to keep my car all day? Didn’t they know I had lots of important
things to do? Yes, I knew the warning lights had a purpose, but why did they
have to scream at me this week? I added these questions to the pile of
frustration already building up inside me and climbed into the shuttle. At the
rental car agency people were pleasant enough, but somehow it felt like an
affront that I had to tackle my “To Do” list driving an unfamiliar
mini-vehicle.
I must
confess that the day carried on in this same vein. I couldn’t quite get into
the swing of things. I lost time because I didn’t organize my errands
efficiently, and got aggravated about it. I kept a nervous ear attuned to my
cell phone as I waited for the call to confirm the extent of the work that
needed to be done on my car. The only good news when it came in was that my
car would be ready that afternoon. Lunch with a friend was my only break, but
even that was affected by my negative talk.
Yes, I
was wallowing in a bog of self-pity. My eyes were focused on the waves around
me: tiny ripples became huge white caps. I was aware of nothing beyond them.
The kindness of the car rental agents as they checked me in and shuttled me
back to the dealership did nothing to relieve my distress. The ocean swell was
overwhelming me and I “couldn’t” do anything about it.
As I
trudged back to the service desk to reclaim my recalcitrant vehicle I was the
very image of misery. I could hardly contain my apprehension as I waited for
the dire report that would come in the form of an exorbitant bill. Imagine my
surprise when the service man informed me that everything was covered under
the warranty. Impossible, unheard of, unexpected, unhoped for, I thought, as a
smile transformed my mouth.
I reclaimed my beloved car with a song in my heart. I thanked everyone
profusely and fairly drifted out the door. As I prepared to drive away I
noticed the sky had turned blue and the aroma of a magnolia tree was wafting
in my window. The red light at the corner was a pleasant pause that allowed me
to turn on the music and adjust the volume. Ah, all was right with the world.
Just
before I pulled out onto the main road I felt an unsettledness in my heart. It
was something like a gentle but firm rapping on a door intended to announce a
guest without unduly startling the resident. I’m not prone to outlandish
spiritual experiences, but the “conversation” that followed went something
like this.
“Hey,
what’s this about? I just got a lot of work done on my car for free. How could
I feel bad after that?”
“You
don’t have to feel bad, but I’m wondering why you feel so good?”
“Well, I
didn’t have to pay out a bunch of money I can’t really afford right now.
That’s a positive thing and I’m happy about it.”
“It’s
fine to be happy, but why the extreme change in attitude – from total
dejection to total elation?”
I had to
admit that my day had been one of extremes. In a matter of seconds I’d gone
from wallowing in a pit to rejoicing on a mountaintop. Was the release from an
ultimately bearable financial responsibility a sufficient reason for such a
metamorphosis? I made my way onto the highway as I pondered my own question.
Suddenly
it dawned on me. What a fickle, fickle person I am. The joy that I felt over a
zero repair bill total is available to me every day. The circumstances that
surround me are not the basis for the tone of my days. The deciding factor for
every moment of my life is the truth that God is on His throne. Every second
can overflow with joy because Jesus died, lives and is coming back for me.
I was
reminded of the prophet Isaiah and paraphrased his sentiment. “Woe to me. For
I am a woman with a wandering heart.” I proceeded to pour out my confession,
describing my offense and asking for the forgiveness I knew my heavenly Father
wanted to bestow. I received His gracious gift and thanked Him by pouring out
every word of praise that came to mind.
It was
fun to tell everyone about the surprise of a free service appointment for my
car. My story was met with heads shaking in disbelief and eyes widening in
astonishment. You’d have thought I was reporting a miracle. Little did they
know that the real miracle was my renewed commitment to focus on the joy of
life by concentrating on the overarching truth.
God is
on His throne and all is right with the world.
Under Surveillance
In the
world today the phrase under surveillance is quite common. It is casually
accepted that store management keeps their customers and employees under
surveillance with cameras and videotapes. Baggage handlers, travelers and
staff are under surveillance in similar ways in every airport. There are
increasing numbers of security guards, K-9 teams and roadblocks in the wake of
9/11 and the onset of the war with Iraq. Yet I wonder if we really understand
the degree to which we are actually under surveillance.
I was
recently made aware of the moment by moment surveillance we undergo every day
of our lives. It happened in the midst of a casual conversation with two
friends of over twenty years. We were reminiscing about the early days of our
friendship in light of our current situations. The pride we have as mothers
was being expressed in stories about how well our grown children are doing. At
one point, one of my friends turned to me and said, “Well, I watched you speak
to Jenna with respect, and clear eye contact and I used that pattern of
communication with my children.”
I admit
I was speechless. I knew that these two women had been role models for me
throughout our relationship, but I had no idea that they were watching me. Nor
was I aware at all that anything I could have said or done would have affected
their lives. I couldn’t imagine that such a simple thing as the way in which I
talked to my daughters could have such a powerful, intimate and long lasting
influence. I was overwhelmed by the impact of my friend’s casual remark.
Since
that conversation I have reflected often on the significance of my friend’s
remark. Of course, Curt and I had always been aware of the power we had as
parents in the lives of our children. We were always careful about the way we
addressed them and the messages we were sending along with the words we used.
But to think that others were observing our behavior and using it as an
example was a bit unnerving.
I was
reminded of the simple impact of a recent house guest’s kindness. She left a
bar of perfumed soap in our bathroom as an expression of her appreciation for
our hospitality. I’d always been a loyal consumer of Ivory soap, but her
thoughtfulness caused me to consider the possibility of adding this touch of
variety to our lives. I am pleased to report that this small change has been a
delightful one.
On a
larger scale I remember the impact of a dear woman of faith. She was my friend
for over ten years and I went through times of joy and accomplishment as well
as stress and unpleasantness along side her. I could sense her frustration and
sadness, hurt and disappointment in the hard times, but she never lashed out
or complained. She just kept on about her business. Her peaceful commitment to
the things God laid out for her to do is an ongoing inspiration and pattern.
My
conclusion is that we are truly under surveillance every moment of our lives
and that we have incredible potential for good or for ill. In the little
things and in the large things we are living our lives, as eloquently
described by Francis Schaeffer, before the watching world. Being under
surveillance is not necessarily a bad thing. Rather, it should cause us to
consider whether we are promoting Biblical or un-Biblical principles.
We live
in a culture and world that is at the moment wrapped up in major events.
Bombs, trillion dollar debt and human casualties are serious business. In the
midst of such earthshaking concepts, I pray that we don’t lose sight of the
significance of each decision and each action of each day in each of our
lives.
Permanently Written on God's Hands
The
Bible says that God has engraved us on the palm of His hands. This is a
concept I’ve heard several times over the years, but last week I came to
understand what it really means in my life.
I’m busy
putting the finishing touches on the documents I need for a presentation I’ll
be giving in Hungary. That’s hard but familiar work and I made good progress.
However, the rest of my trip is not as comfortable. I’m going to spend ten
days ministering to families in France and I have no idea what that time will
be like.
I don’t
have a place to stay. The couple considering the possibility of being on site
coordinators declined the job. I haven’t been able arrange any specific
appointments yet. For a person who likes to know what’s coming next, it’s a
bit of a nightmare. As I sit with my discomfort the idea of God’s closeness is
calming.
Isaiah chapter 49 is where the imagery appears. The prophet is addressing the
phase of Israel’s history where they are feeling discouraged and abandoned. In
verse 14 he expresses it this way, “But Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me.’” The response from the Lord is clear, specific,
and powerful as Isaiah explains His compassion and memory are even more secure
than that of a mother for her breast feeding child.
In verse
16 he explains it by saying, “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my
hands.” My mind took off with the idea. I thought about occasions when I’ve
merely written things on my hand – someone’s phone number or address. Students
have been known to write important facts on their hands before a test.
The item
written is important, personal, and essential not to be forgotten under
pressure or over time.
On God’s
level there’s a comparison to be made even though His hands are figurative. It
is dissimilar in that He is engraving, permanently embedding, us on His hand,
not merely temporarily noting something with ink or crayon or marker. However,
this permanent memorializing is important and personal – God’s hand, my name.
And it will certainly withstand any amount of pressure and last for all time.
That is biblical truth.
For me
that means that when I get to Paris, no matter what happens there, God will
not forsake me. Even if I am engulfed by fear and tension, He will not forget
me. Rather, my name is embedded in His very person for just those occasions.
Sandra can’t be overlooked by the Creator of the universe no matter how much
time goes by. That brings real confidence!
He watches over me, even weird old me
“I’m
frustrated. Why can’t things ever go the way I want them to?”
This is the way I was feeling early this morning when a phone call interrupted
my plans for the day. I had committed two hours to do clean up work at my
church with a friend and a change in her schedule forced her to cancel. I had
arranged my day around this time and felt my day was in upheaval. Little did I
know how God would use this change in plans to minister to my heart.
Since I
didn’t need to eat and head right out the door, I decided to attack the work I
had planned for the afternoon. I turned on my computer, downloaded my mail and
began catching up on correspondence. Among the incoming messages was an urgent
plea from a friend to communicate on the telephone. Without anything pressing
to do, I was able to call her right then. What followed was a wonderful
opportunity to catch up on each other’s lives that included a discussion about
possible collaboration on a book publication.
I was
beginning to get excited about the project when another interrupting phone
call came in. The representative of the missions committee wondered how she
could get a donation check to me as I was not at the church as expected. I had
forgotten about our rendezvous that was to facilitate my delivery of the gift
to a missionary. Glancing quickly at the clock I set a time to meet her at the
church and continued my conversation.
Our talk
was so engrossing that my friend had to remind me about the new appointment
time’s approach. I ended the call, jumped into the work clothes I had laid out
the night before and headed for the church. The exchange of the donation was
accompanied by a brief but pleasant visit with the missions committee
representative. As I stood in the church driveway bidding her good-bye I
realized I was where I had meant to be two hours earlier dressed for work.
Suddenly it seemed silly not to donate the two hours as I had planned.
When I
realized I had no keys to get back in the building, an earlier idea I had
about weeding the gardens around the front of the building resurfaced. I
decided to undertake that task on my own and that’s where God met me.
I worked with my hands since I had left all my tools having not planned to do
this job, but I made progress. Starting at the side door I worked my way along
the sidewalk and around the front. It was sunny and hot as I prayed for my
family members and friends and sang Christian music in my head. At one point I
wondered who might see me as I toiled there on my hands and knees, not wanting
anyone to think I was seeking recognition for my efforts. That took me on a
thought path about how my heavenly Father oversees all the events of my life
and led me to pray that He would watch over any passers-by.
I have
always found physical labor rewarding as it produces visible evidence of the
energy exerted. This job was no different and I delighted in the clean edge
that was appearing along the front of the church. As I reached the final
corner, I began to think of the friend who hadn’t been able to join me. I
wondered if she was aware of the treat she was missing. I prayed that her day
was going well in spite of the interruption she had experienced. Then it hit
me.
My desire for the previous month or more had been to do the weeding job I was
about to complete. When I made arrangements to work together with my friend I
knew that she had several projects inside the building she wanted to pursue.
Although it was a small effort to give up my idea of the “perfect chore” I had
done so relying on God to apply my two donated hours as He saw fit. I suddenly
realized that I was doing the exact task I had been anxious to undertake and
enjoying the results I expected.
I know
that these thoughts may sound odd – to “dream” about doing some weeding. I
have been convinced for some time that beyond being unique, I am weird. (My
daughters remind me of this fact on a regular basis.) Was it possible that the
God who created the universe, putting each star in place, was caring for me so
personally? Could it be that He arranged my friend’s day so that I would be
there by myself in just the right situation to pursue my dream?
I had to laugh out loud as I considered the love and understanding that God
uses as He watches over me, even weird old me.
Everything I need to Know about Sanctification, I learn at the Gym
(Well,
maybe not everything.)
I’ve
been a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ for over 30 years. There were a lot
of ups and downs during that time. Although I learned a lot over the years, it
wasn’t until I reached the chronological age of 50 that I entered the real
school of sanctification.
That five syllable word has a variety of definitions: Webster's Dictionary defines it this way:
sanctification \Sanc`ti*fi*ca"tion\, n. [L. sanctificatio: cf. F. sanctification.] 1. The act of sanctifying or making holy; the state of being sanctified or made holy; esp. (Theol.), the act of God's grace by which the affections of men are purified, or alienated from sin and the world, and exalted to a supreme love to God; also, the state of being thus purified or sanctified.
Easton's Bible Dictionary adds to the definition::
sanctification involves more than a mere moral reformation of character, brought about by the power of the truth: it is the work of the Holy Spirit bringing the whole nature more and more under the influences of the new gracious principles implanted in the soul in regeneration. In other words, sanctification is the carrying on to perfection the work begun in regeneration, and it extends to the whole man (Rom. 6:13; 2 Cor. 4:6; Col. 3:10; 1 John 4:7; 1 Cor. 6:19).
You may be wondering what turning 50 had to do with starting my spiritual education in earnest. Well, up until this point it seemed that a lot of the information I was taking in about the world and my place in it stayed mostly in my brain. It reached out into my practical life from time to time and in limited ways, but was pretty much restricted to the intellectual side of my life.
Now I’m not complaining. That’s just the way it was and it’s a pretty good way to start the process. Without knowledge it’s hard to maintain any journey. However, after a while I realized it was hard to get the practical side of myself to behave in harmony with the intellectual side. To be honest, I felt a bit schizophrenic.
Getting back to the turning 50 idea: it wasn’t the date or the celebration that made the difference. A lot of people asked me if hitting that half-century mark was upsetting me. My response was always positive. “No, I feel like I have enough experience behind me now to be confident about what I know.”
The important detail was that my body was screaming for attention. My weight had crept up more than 25 pounds. Aches and pains were making themselves known in various areas of my body. My energy level and general stamina were not what they used to be. (I won’t mention the emotional deterioration I witnessed in myself because that would be too embarrassing.) I could no longer ignore the physical side of my life.
So I headed off to the local gym, led by a kind neighbor, to see if I could get the help I needed there. The process of bringing one’s body back to a former, higher level of fitness is not one to be undertaken lightly, especially after the age of 50. Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile goal and I headed toward it with vigor if not enthusiasm. In the midst of shedding weight and building muscles I realized that I was developing connections between the data in my brain and the daily practices of my life.
At the gym I am learning truths about my body and myself that teach me about real life situations and my responses to them. This venture is an ongoing process, one I would like to share with you over the coming weeks and months. Please feel specially invited to join me here for the lessons I am learning at the gym.
For Me, It's Gotta Be A Headset
Being a 50-something mom with an eighteen year old daughter keeps me connected with the world of contemporary music. Without Sunnie around I'm not sure I would have learned the secrets of boomboxes and personal CD players. Today I was able to see not only the significant difference between the two, but also the implication of that difference in my spiritual life.
I was sitting in the backyard doing my best to absorb some of the later rays of summer while listening to worship music on my boombox. The idyllic scene was only marred by the sound of the landowner across the brook who was mowing and trimming his lawn - all afternoon. I found I couldn't just let the music pour into my ears as I needed to actually concentrate to block out the noise interference.
For a while I considered the possibility of going in to get my small CD player with a headset. I wear it around my waist at the gym where a radio station blares in the background. Having the music fed directly into my ears through the earphones cuts down interference from outside noise. Suddenly I was struck with the comparison of listening to God's voice. If I keep Him at a distance by not studying His Word, meditating on it, and hiding it in my heart, the "noise of life" can get between me and His guidance. The things of this world interfere in our relationship the same as when then the lawnmower interfered with my reception of the music from my boombox.
When I'm seeking His will by looking in His Word and staying close in prayer, the distractions of the world are kept to a minimum. It's like when I have my headset on at the gym as a barrier to keep the raucous radio and even conversations around me from interfering with my music reception. I am more able to focus on my goal.
I am easily distracted by the cares of this life; the sowing, the reaping, the tyranny of the urgent and so much more. I want to ignore these interferences and focus on the goals God has set for me. So, for me it's gotta be a headset!