Archive for category: Blog

By Colonel Genevera Vincent

Have you ever met someone, and your first thought was, “wow, she is beautiful!” and then she opened her mouth and suddenly her beauty fades as her words give way to negativity, gossip and foul language. Flourishing in our identity in Christ is having a healthy understanding of beauty. We have all heard it said, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” There’s a tremendous truth in that statement. We can all look at the same thing but have very different ideas and opinions on its beauty status. What I consider beautiful might be simply mundane and boring to another. So, suffice it to say, beauty goes much deeper than a nice hairdo, nice clothes and make-up. While it is okay to ensure that our appearance is appealing…actually, it is strongly encouraged…it is of paramount importance that we tend to the inner beauty of our lives, for that is what makes us truly attractive.

The Bible teaches us that a quiet and gentle spirit is beautiful. What makes us beautiful is what we possess on the inside, strength, dignity and character.

Just this past summer, I participated in a funeral service for my cousin’s wife. She was fifty years old and died very suddenly from a heart attack. We were all shocked and deeply saddened by Lisa’s passing. As we gathered for her service, everyone had the same thing to say about Lisa and it was this: “Lisa was beautiful inside and out.” It truly described who she was. There was no denying physical beauty. Far beyond that, however, was a woman who was kind, compassionate, loving and sincere. She was beautiful, inside and out.

That is what God seeks for his beloved children. The final verses of Proverbs 31 speak of a godly woman. Verses 10-31 speak of a woman of character, a woman of worth, value, goodness, hardworking, compassionate, strength, dignity, wise, blessed. Nowhere in this passage does it speak of physical beauty. Yet, as I read Proverbs 31, I picture a beautiful woman, and she is beautiful indeed. She may have been beautiful to look at, maybe she wasn’t. Her attractiveness was not tied to physical beauty but to her character. After King Lemuel describes the beautiful characteristics of this woman of noble character, he concludes with these verses, “Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate“ (v. 330-31). In the final analysis, our inner beauty will far outlive our physical beauty.

I would propose that for those reading this blog, our desire is to foster in our lives the qualities that make us truly beautiful. The fruit of the Spirit outlined in Galatians 5:22 is what we should be aiming for, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Paul goes on to say, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit“(v. 24-25).

Have you ever reflected on what you want your legacy to be? What do you want your children, family members and your friends to say about you when you are gone? We are not concerned that physical beauty even makes the list. We want to be remembered for our character. We want to be known and remembered as people who loved deeply, who cared, who made a difference for good in this world.

As a woman of God, flourishing in our identity in Him, remember, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! May God always help us cultivate the beautiful character qualities that make it so!

By Major Beth Desplancke

Recently, I had the wonderful privilege of attending the USA Central Territory’s Abide Women’s Conference in Green Lake, Wisconsin. It was so exciting to go to a part of the country I had never been to before (first, but hopefully not my last, trip to Wisconsin). I was privileged to be invited to teach a workshop at this event. Although I was excited, I was also anxious. Going somewhere new meant there would be a lot of faces I did not know, and they would not know me.

I am friendly by nature, and have overcome a lot of shyness, but the thought of going to an unknown place, with unknown people, where I sort of knew a few people, was scary. Who would I sit with at meals? (Asking to sit at a table brings back lots of anxiety recalling the traumatic events of my middle school years when people did not want me to sit at their table). Would I spend the entire weekend alone in a sea of 700 women?

I knew that there were four people that I had met before. I worked with one at camp in the summer of 1989, another I met at a conference I attended two years ago, and then two that served on the same national committee as me (one of which invited to me to come participate in this weekend). And for the record, none of these four women would I call close friends, but acquaintances.

One of my assignments for the weekend was to help with the registration of all these women attending this event. I saw lot so faces, and heard lots of names of women I did not know. To my surprise, there were three additional names and faces I did recognize. Women from The Salvation Army USA Western Territory (where I am from) who are now settled in the central part of the US.

The lady next to me at registration, Cindy (a new friend I made over the weekend), would see a familiar face, and say, “I know you” and would find her name on the list. Each time she said that I felt a little lonely. I was startled when a sweet lady who was checking in said to me, “I know you” with a bright, big smile and arms opened wide, ready to hug me. I had no clue who this woman was, and I knew for certain I had never met her. She did not know me.

But I responded to her open arms, and we mutually hugged each other. She asked me how I have been? I responded with “fine.” We had a brief conversation. I have no idea if she ever realized the fact that she didn’t know me. But for that moment, I was reminded of the importance of being known.

The lady who claimed she knew me and hugged me, I never saw again over the weekend. I did get to meet lots of new friends, but to the woman who claimed she knew me, and offered this “lost in the crowd” person a warm greeting and friendly hug, I am eternally grateful.

It feels good to be known, for someone to recognize me, and know my name, and to truly know me. What a comfort it is that God knows me. He knows my name, and everything about me. David writes in Psalm 139:

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain (v. 1-6).

JJ Heller has a beautiful song, “Fully Known.” The song begins with these words:

Have you ever felt lost
Driving down the same road every day?
And you’re caught in traffic
But everyone feels a thousand miles away
Does anyone see you?
Does anyone care? Does anyone know your name?

And then the chorus proclaims:

You are fully known by the Author of space and time
He won’t let you go
And you cannot change His mind
No, you cannot change His mind.

In a sea of people, God knows you. He knows your name. He knows your thoughts. He knows the way you take. God knows all about you. There is no mistaken identity; you and I can never get lost in the crowd. Celebrate the fact that you are fully known by the Author of space and time.

By Major Beth Desplancke

My son, Ryan, has a husky named Ayla, who spends a lot of her day chilling in the front entryway of our home, looking out the window. This is one of her favorite spots in the house, especially in the mornings. After Ayla has gone outside first thing in the morning, Ayla goes to the front room and lays her head on the window ledge and just relaxes, and she waits. She waits for the time Ryan gets up in the morning and opens his bedroom door.

Ayla is so tuned to her master, that she knows when she hears a door open in the house, whether it is Ryan’s or not. When it is Ryan’s door, her ears perk up, and she immediately goes towards his bedroom door, alert and ready for her master.

Now, I have listened to the various bedroom doors in our house, and they all sound the same to me. I can’t tell which of my three kids is opening the bedroom door, but Ayla can. When another door opens, her ears perk up, but then she relaxes back into her resting position.

Day in and day out as I watched the dog do this, the Lord started stirring my heart. Am I actively listening for God to speak to me, in my life? And when He speaks to my heart, am I quick to respond?

In 1 Samuel 3, we see a great example of one who is listening for the Lord to speak and ready to respond. Samuel is serving in the temple, under the tutelage of Eli. One night, Samuel was lying in his usually place and he heard someone call his name. He got up and immediately went to Eli and said, “Here I am, you called me” (1 Samuel 3:6). Eli said he didn’t call and told Samuel to go back to bed. Two more times this happened. Finally, by the third time, Eli realized what was going on. He told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening” (1 Samuel 3:9). Samuel obeyed, went back to bad, and sure enough God called to him again. Samuel heard the voice and this time responded, “Speak, for your servant is listening” (1 Samuel 3:10). Then the Lord told Samuel what He was about to do in Israel, including the fact that Eli and his family would no longer serve as priests to the Lord (3:11-14; see also 1 Samuel 2:27-36).

Now, most of us will never have an encounter where God appears and calls us audibly by name, so how do we go about listening for Him? From Samuel, I learn 4 things I need to do in order to listen for and hear God: Sit in Silence, Stop Talking, Slow Down/Stay Put, Say Yes!

Samuel was in a quiet place. Our world is anything but quiet; we are surrounded by noise. We can’t eliminate all the noise around us, but we can choose to find a quiet place to meet with God each day, in order that we might hear Him. It may mean finding a quiet place in your home (a spare room, a closet, the bathroom, the garage). Or when driving to work, turning off the radio and driving in silence, spending that time with the Lord.

Finding silence also means to stop talking. Samuel only said 6 words: “Speak, for your servant is listening.” He acknowledges that he is ready to listen, and then he listens. It is God who does the speaking. When God is done, there is no record of Samuel speaking back to the Lord. God wants to talk to us, but we have to be willing to stop talking and allow Him to speak.

After we stop talking, we need to slow down and wait for God to respond. Samuel said he was listening to God, and then made himself available, and he allowed God to speak. Often when I pray, doing all the talking, say amen and move on, not allowing God a chance to respond. The same goes with my time reading His Word. Sometimes I speedily read through it, just to say I did it for the day, but I fail to linger, to contemplate, to think about what I read. The Bible is God’s Word; He speaks to us through it, but we have to slow down in order to hear Him. Margaret Feinberg wrote, “Listening forces me to learn patience. Nowhere in the Bible does God commit to running on our schedule or fitting into our time frame, though I wish it were that easy.” I must stay put, and wait, expectantly for Him to speak.

When the Lord speaks, I can’t pretend I didn’t hear Him (especially if I don’t like what He is saying to me). I need to respond by saying “yes” to Him. Samuel listened to what God had said to him, and in the morning when Eli asked about what happened Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing from him (1 Samuel 3:18). God had given Samuel a message, and Samuel said yes to God and obeyed.

Lord, may I tune out the noise of the world and lean in and listen to what you have to say to me today! May I be like Samuel, Speak, for your servant is listening.

By Major Beth Desplancke

She hurt me deeply. Her words to me were mean, and untruthful. She attacked my character and my capability. She came across as being perfect, without any faults, and I had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I tried to defend myself, to correct her perspective of me, but she would not listen. No matter what I did, she would not change her view of me.

She shared her opinions about me as facts to other people. She came across as being perfect, without any faults, and I had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. They listened and believed her version of reality.
I was mad. I deserved and desired an apology. Just seeing her made me angrier; instantly my jaw would become clenched, my shoulders would tighten, and my hands would ball into a fist. Simply hearing her voice would cause the feelings to bubble inside of me.

She had moved on. She hurt me and didn’t care. I told myself that I was over it but knew better. I was still upset. She continued to fill my thoughts, and conversations. The whole situation took up way too much of my time. I am not proud of my behavior, but I was like a dog with a bone – I wasn’t going to let it go.

Then one day in Sunday School class, the infamous verse came up in the discussion. As soon as I heard the reference, I knew what the verse said, and I did not like it. In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says these words about loving your enemies, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:43-44).

I squirmed in my seat. She wasn’t my enemy. Well, she wasn’t my enemy before the incident. Now, after what she had done, I didn’t want to be around her. Yes, in my mind, she had become the enemy. Of course I will pray for her, I thought to myself. I will pray that she comes to her senses and realizes what she had done was wrong, and she will apologize. Or better yet, she will be treated as I was treated and experience the same kind of hurt and pain. Deep down, I knew that this wasn’t what God was intending with this verse.

As If I weren’t uncomfortable enough, we then turned to the passage later in the book of Matthew, when Peter asks Jesus a question about forgiveness. Matthew 18:21-22 says, Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

Peter was looking for an easy answer – a limit to how many times he had to forgive someone who wronged him. Jesus’ answer wasn’t a mathematical solution. Some translations say it “seventy times seven” times (490). What Jesus is saying is that forgiveness is not to be calculated. It is unlimited. We are to continue to forgive people, no matter how many times they have hurt us.

God was really trying to get my attention that Sunday morning. I knew I needed to forgive her. I wasn’t hurting her; I was only hurting myself. She had moved on; I hadn’t. My stewing over it was doing nothing to her; she probably had no idea that it was still festering inside of me.

Diane Marr, in her book, The Reluctant Traveler, says this about unforgiveness: “Unforgiveness can be likened to a parasite it feeds on the anger and hurt of its host, finding its most satisfying nourishment in human pain. It thrives on the cycle of replayed scenes, recalled anguish, and rehashed justification for holding fast to grudges. Essentially, unforgiveness grows plump on our desire for revenge.” The picture of a parasite growing inside of me is enough to gross me out and want to forgive.

The Bible is very clear. Forgiving others is a command; it is not optional! I may not feel like forgiving her for what she had done, but God expected me to do it. Another verse that came up during that Sunday school class, one that I had memorized as a small child, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). Ok, God, I get the hint.

I spent a lot of time in prayer, asking God to forgive me for my attitude towards her. I asked God to work in my heart and to also work in hers. Every time those feelings of unforgiveness and anger started to boil up, I immediately asked God to help me to forgive her.

There have been a lot of “hers” in my life. The stories and situations are different, but my lack of unforgiveness is a common reoccurrence in my life. I know my experience isn’t unique. We all have times when we need to ask forgiveness of others as well as when we need to do the forgiving.

Forgiveness does not come easily or naturally. We cannot forgive in our own strength. We must rely on His Spirit, and His power to forgive others. Instead of being a bulldog chewing on a bone or allowing unforgiveness to grow in our hearts like a parasite, we need to remember that Christ forgave us of our sin, and we should forgive others. As the Lord’s prayer says, forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors (Matthew 6:12).

By Major Beth Desplancke

When my oldest son, Ryan, was 7 ½ years old, my mother-in-law, on a Monday morning, took him to the doctor’s office for a drop-in appointment, because he had been sick all weekend. We thought it wasn’t too serious; that’s why she took him, because I had another appointment to be at that morning.

Cathy checked him at the doctor’s office. They immediately took him back and put him on oxygen, and informed Cathy that they had called 9-1-1 and an ambulance was on the way. He was transported to Oakland Children’s Hospital – two cities away! We discovered that he had asthma and had we waited any longer to get him to a doctor, he would have died. Five long grueling days my child spent in the hospital.

It broke my heart, and I was utterly helpless. I could do nothing for him! Time went so slowly and the first three days there seemed to be no progress. When it was my turn to leave Ryan and go to the cafeteria, I shed lots of tears. I did a lot of praying, begging and pleading with God for Him to do something. I would have willingly traded places with Ryan, and would have given my life, if I could. Finally on day 4, he was much better, and on the Friday we were able to take him home. Thankfully, he never had a bad issue with asthma again (today he’s a healthy 24-year-old, college graduate and just started his first job in his chosen career).

Those days in the hospital, where I sat by his bed, holding his hand, I couldn’t do much (it was before the days of smart phones so there was no scrolling on Social media or playing mindless games). I spent a lot of time praying silently and thinking about God and His Word. I immediately thought of Mary, Jesus’ mother, as she stood and watched her child be beaten and ridiculed, and then forced to carry His own cross to the place of His crucifixion.

Mary didn’t shy away from the pain, but John records the fact Mary was at the foot of the cross, watching everything her son endured. John 19:26-27 says When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved, standing nearby he said her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother…” Even in His anguish and pain, Jesus noticed His mom, spoke to His mom, and made sure she was taken care of.

As a mom, I am sure Mary winced, cried secretly (she would have wanted her son to see she was strong), prayed and even bargained with God. I am sure she would have exchanged places with her son if she could. But she knew Jesus had come for a greater purpose. She and Joseph had been told that: “She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21).” Perhaps it was at that moment, she recalled when Simeon had said 33 years earlier, when Jesus, as a baby, was presented at the temple, “And a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:35). Mary, too, was helpless. There was nothing she could do but watch her child suffer.

Mary hurt for her child, but Jesus suffered. He experienced the whip, the thorns on His brow, the weight of the cross on his bleeding back and the nails physically. His flesh tore, He lost a lot of blood. He had trouble breathing. He thirsted, and then He breathed His last breath. He endured a pain that we will never fully understand. He willingly died for us. Our sins need to be paid for, and He paid the price for us. Isaiah 53: 4-6 states,

“Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. 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.”

Hallelujah that Jesus took our pain. Unlike Mary and I, who could not switch places with our sons, Jesus did switch places with us. He endured what was meant for us. That is the beauty of the Easter story. Jesus took our place, and died a horrible death, so that we would not have to endure the punishment for our sin. He was afflicted, pierced, crushed, wounded, punished and suffered so we could have healing and peace through Jesus Christ.

Yes, in this world, we will have pain, hurt, sorrows and suffering. Jesus told us that would be the case in John 16:33. But then He made this promise, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Hallelujah the Lord understands our pain and our suffering. Hallelujah, He took our place and bore the pain that we should have endured.