Am I crucified yet?

Am I crucified yet?
Thursday, January 12, 2012 by Charlotte S. Snead

The other day my daughter calls: “Are you slammed today?”

My plans were to go to my writing cave (the lovely space my husband made for me in our basement: tile floors, fireplace heater, and the computer dedicated to my writing. Okay, so my washing machine and drier are there, too. For the first time since before we got custody of our grandson, since my trip to IHOP over Thanksgiving, I was going to cut off my phone and have office hours. I planned to do what i love best: write.

What did she need? Her son, my other grandson who is a senior, sent her a text: “Will you take me to the Doctor?” Now he hates to go to the doctor, so it was a no brainer, and before long I was en route north to his high school to sign him out.

As I drove, my other grandson sent me a text: “Grammy, can you pick me up at noon?” He had been started on a prednizone pack a couple of days earlier for severe allergic rhinitis, and I told him if he couldn’t make it through the day to call me.

I drove five miles south of my exit, dropped the first grandson off at the doctor, drove back to the exit to our house and grandson # two’s school, picked him up and dropped him off at the house. Back to the doctor. Grandson # one has strep. Back ten miles up the interstate to the exit to his house, stopping to pick up his antibiotic on the way.

Back home, the day entirely shot, I look in the mirror and asked God, “Am I crucified with Christ yet?”

But, no, I am merely inconvenienced. I say a prayer for persecuted Christians who suffer or even die for our faith and I feel ashamed, and blessed: I am able to help these young men. I have a vehicle, the money for gas, and I really do have the time. As one of my characters says, I repeat: “If you can’t be flexible, you can’t be led by the Holy Spirit.”

God, give me a servant’s heart.

Be blessed!

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Jesus only rebuked his disciples for lack of faith—oh, and not allowing the children to come to Him—saving his rebukes for religious leaders who were hypocrites. After feeding five thousand and then four thousand, how could his disciples fret over no bread on their sail across the lake? The Master could feed thirteen men if he had fed thousands! Yet I faltered over less than that last week.

My blog masters called me last Monday, asking if I knew my website was down. No. We worked all morning to discover why, knocking on closed doors. Word Press had closed my site, handing it off to another company. Me of little faith wept. I am launching a new book. A Place to Live came out last month and I’m in the midst of marketing it. All my marketing has the old website name on it. Didn’t God know this?

Of course He did, and by the end of the day my wonderful blog masters at Celebrity Web Design had a new one set up, one that I own: charlottesnead.com

How cool is that? Just my name. I didn’t even know I could do that. God can do exceeding abundantly. So I downloaded all my subscribers and notified them of the name change. Since that time, I have doubled them! Thank you, God. Like the father I cry out: I believe, Lord, help Thou mine unbelief. Forgive me.

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