July 27, 2018

Where Is Your Home?

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” – John 11:25-26

What does home look like to you? Maybe it’s a house in the suburbs. Maybe it’s a condo or apartment in the city. Maybe it’s a house in the country, surrounded by acres and acres of farm land. Or maybe it’s somewhere else entirely.

Do you believe in Jesus Christ? Do you believe He’s the Son of God? Do you believe He came, lived a perfect life, was crucified for our sins, and rose three days later? Do you believe He sits at God’s right hand and intercedes for us? Do you believe you’ll meet Him face to face one day?

Then no matter where you lay your head at night, you aren’t home.

Jesus spoke these words before He called Lazarus out of the tomb. Mary and Martha were beyond distraught. Their brother got sick and died. And Jesus, their teacher and a miraculous healer, delayed coming to save him. They were upset with Him. We get upset with Him sometimes too.

Everything Jesus does focuses us on eternity. It’s not so much about the here and now as it is about leading us to be more like Him, gathering the lost, and ministering to the hurting. He understands as we rarely do that this isn’t our home.

We cling to this world. We fight death like it’s the enemy when, in reality, death is only the beginning. For it is in death that we truly go home to beauty and eternal service to God Almighty.

We are only here for a short while. Our days are numbered, be that number large or small. There is a special purpose for each of us. Finding that purpose, that calling, should be a lifetime pursuit.

As believers, we know that. The trouble comes when we look for grandeur when Jesus says to love your neighbor well. The challenge comes when we don’t like our calling, when it’s scary or when it involves reaching out to people we don’t like.

We are creatures of comfort. We like our earthly dwellings. We want to have fun. We want this life to be easy and without great sorrow or distress. We want to live long and die painlessly, waking into heaven without ever having to get dirty with the service God has called us to.

How would life be different if we focused our attention on Jesus? How would we view our possessions if we understood all that we have is only temporary? How would we change if we truly realized that home is where Jesus is, no matter what our address says today?

Jesus came that we might be free to serve Him. He came to save us from our sins and grant us a passport to an eternal destination of beauty and worship. Don’t lose sight of that. When life threatens to overwhelm you, when your days are filled with stress over earthly things, remember that you’re just passing through.

July 19, 2018

Focus on Jesus

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him. – James 1:12

Some seasons of life are just hard. It might be a wayward child, a divorce, a job loss, an unexpected illness. It could be a wreck, a fire, a season of unexpected bills. It could be the death of someone you love. The storm crashes against us again and again and, some days, our faith seems so weak.

It’s not about whether you will face a storm. We all do. It’s about whether you have prepared your heart for its inevitability.

The Bible tells us to grow our roots deep in faith so that we can withstand life’s trials. Some take heed and do just that. Others merely skate along, with a naïve certainty that they can handle anything. They believe that really bad things only happen to others. They assume a strength that has never been tested.

Until it happens. Then you learn that waiting room chairs are hard and the hours endless while a loved one fights for her life in ICU. You learn the treasure of friends who just let you cry without trying to “fix” what only God can repair. You learn the difference between a necessity and a need. You learn the miracle of small steps forward, an extended hand, friends who show up and help without being asked.

And you learn empathy and grace. You learn that you can do everything right and still have your world fall apart without notice. You learn that nothing on this earth is certain and that our only true anchor is Christ.

You come to understand the camaraderie of strangers bound together by crisis. You learn medical terms and rehab techniques and how to find and accept specialized help. And you learn that pride has no place when you are in desperate need of a kind word or a flicker of hope.

There is no place as lonely as an ICU waiting room in the middle of the night. There is no place as lonely as the first moments, the first hours, in a house void of someone who will never come home again. There is no place as lonely as the days of transition between what was and what now is.

You learn the blessing of presence that some gift so generously. You learn the blessing of faith as long-ago memorized verses come to mind. You learn the truth that fertilized hope will carry you when the darkness threatens to overwhelm you.

You persevere, taking one step and then another, because you really have no choice. People say you are strong but the truth isn’t so pretty. There is nothing to do but go forward because life doesn’t pause for broken hearts, destroyed lives, shattered dreams.

You focus your eyes on Jesus, your anchor in what seems to be the never-ending storm. The world tells you to move on, to forget, to get over the past. Your heart wishes it was that easy. You take another step toward Jesus, toward His patience and compassion.

And one day your heart feels a little lighter. Your grief remains. What was will never be again. But you feel His Presence in a way you never felt before. You smile up at Jesus and take another step toward home.

March 17, 2018

Jesus Is Near

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3

She looked like she was sleeping. She was finally at peace. The oxygen machine that had helped her breath was silent. She had no need of it now.

I pulled the chair up close to the bed and gazed down at her, something I’d done repeatedly over the last weeks. The nurses had met me at the door. They’d hovered for a while. Now I was alone as we waited for the funeral director to come.

Birds fed happily outside the window. She’d always loved to watch the birds and I made sure each day that the bird feeder was filled with seed. Other residents would stop by and admire the birds and visit with my Mother. I wondered who would feed the birds now.

Her presence had consumed my life for more years than I could remember. She was a spitfire and drama always seemed to surround her. She wanted to be the center of attention, to have everyone’s world rotate around her. In the end, in those last days of life, it was just the two of us waiting for God to call her home.

Bittersweet. How else can you describe the passing of someone you love to someplace so much better than here? I was thankful that she was no longer in pain. Her body had failed her and refused to do what she commanded. Her broken heart was beyond soothing. Her anger had turned to bitterness at those who had abandoned her in her darkest hours.

She was reunited with her husband of 63 years. They’d fought and loved, totally dependent on each other for longer than either could believe. It was a bond others had tried to destroy but, in the end, it was stronger than they realized.

They say heaven is a beautiful place. I’m counting on it. I look forward with eager anticipation to the great reunion. I can’t wait to meet Jesus and Peter and Esther and Ruth and all those who went before. I look forward to seeing my family again. What a time it will be!

But first I had to get through the days ahead. It’s been a year today. I haven’t really even begun to process it all. Her clothes still hang in the closet, waiting to be worn. Her dishes, her things, remain. I know I need to push ahead but my heart screams that it isn’t ready to let go.

My faith carries me. It surrounds me with God’s Word when the words of the world seek to destroy me. God is present. He helps me. He sends good people my way. I am blessed. The journey would be impossible without Him.

I have no idea what the days ahead will bring. I’ve learned that I can’t even imagine what could happen. But I do know that I do not journey through this life alone. My Savior, my Jesus, is right there with me every step that I take. I cling to His Presence even as I grieve.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Let Go Of All That Stuff

Then he said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” -- Luke 12:15

What are you taking with you? When you die and head toward those Pearly Gates, what are you planning to have in your luggage? What is it that you simply can’t do without? What do you have that you can’t leave behind?

Oh, yeah. That’s right. There’s no baggage claim in heaven. Oh, and no carry-on bags are allowed either. So where does that leave all that stuff you value so highly? Not with you and, honestly, when you get to heaven do you think you will even care?

We spend so much of our lives worrying about our stuff. We never have enough of it. We don’t like to share. Sometime we value our stuff more than the people in our lives. And for what? Because we sure aren’t taking it with us when we go.

Now don’t get me wrong. I like my stuff. And I don’t like it when people abuse it or when others don’t value the family history associated with items passed down through the generations. But I also know that anything I have is a gift from God that will one day go to someone else. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

So since we can’t take it with us, maybe we need to reorder our priorities a little bit. Pastor Danny recently suggested three ways that we an do this. First, we can learn to live below our means. That way we’ll be free to appreciate what we have and to give more away to those who don’t have enough.

Ouch. I just stepped on a few toes, didn’t I? We don’t want to give away what we’ve worked hard to achieve. Other people should work hard, too, and buy their own stuff. Except that’s not what God tells us to do, is it? We’re to share from our abundance and, honestly, most of us have way too much abundance.

Secondly, we should work on developing a grateful heart. It’s difficult to focus on what you don’t have when you’re thanking God for all that you do have. Are you lusting after the latest smart phone? Well, thank God that you even have a smart phone. Many people don’t. Thank God for your health because many struggle with debilitating illness. Thank God for your family because many people are alone. And on and on. Pretty soon you’ll realize that you really have way more than you thought you had.

And lastly figure out where your soul finds satisfaction because your soul is the one thing you will be taking with you on your journey to heaven. What is your life’s call? Create your life, spend your moments, following God’s purpose for your life and not your own pursuit of stuff.

Fill your heart with compassion. Litter your path with kindness. Open your eyes to the hands in need. Fill your soul with Jesus.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Heaven Awaits

In love, he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will -- Ephesians 1:4b-5

What do you think Heaven will be like? We've probably all heard about the streets of gold. Will Saint Peter really be at the gate to welcome us? Who knows? And, really, who cares? We'll be home and that's all that matters.

I think I'm most looking forward to that welcome mat at the gate. It sounds kind of corny but sometimes I really can't imagine a place where I truly am welcome and wanted. A place where I belong. After a lifetime of rejection, of failure to be what others wanted or needed me to be, it amazes me that one day I'll go to a place where I am enough. I almost can't wrap my mind around that.

I know there are lots of people on this earth who are popular and cherished and valued just as they are. I am not, nor have I ever been, one of them. Don't get out the violin because this is definitely not a pity party. Life is what it is. We all have blessings and we all have hurts. My curse, if you will, was to never fit in anywhere. Not in my family, not in school, not in jobs or most social situations. Wherever I have ended up there has always been someone there who "needed" to remake me. You can imagine how that feels.

But God made me. Oh, I'm far from perfect. I heard a man say about himself recently that he was a work in progress. That sounds about right. I'm trying really hard to follow the path God set out for me. I don't want to take any more detours. I don't want to spiral down into depression again. I just want to be who God meant for me to be. It's not so easy when you're surrounded by people who expect you to fail no matter what it is you set out to do.

So when I think about Heaven, I can't help but smile. Of course, there's that nagging doubt that Satan has planted. I find myself wanting to ask, "Are you sure He meant me too?" I'm almost afraid because I couldn't bear not being with God. I want to sit at Jesus' feet and hear all the stories. I want to laugh and be part of His family. I want to belong. And I will. He promised.

I don't know exactly what Heaven will be like. But I know when I get there I'll be accepted just the way I am.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Home Awaits

"God sets the lonely in families..."

-- Psalm 68:6a

I always wanted to be part of one of those big, happy families. You know what I'm talking about. You might even be part of one. There's lots of siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. Everyone laughs and spends time together and takes care of one another. They fuss sometimes, then make up and keep loving each other day after day. That was my dream.

My reality wasn't like that at all. I spent a great deal of time alone. I never belonged to the family that ended up with me. Don't get me wrong. The blood connection was there. But the heart connection wasn't. So I dreamed of what I didn't have. I'm still dreaming.

As I child, I had everything figured out. I was always such a hopeful little girl. I planned to grow up, get married and have lots of children of my own. I didn't even care whether I gave birth to them or adopted them. I just longed for that big, happy family filled with love. God had another plan and I never did get that family I wanted.

But one day I will. One day I'll head home for good. There will be no more broken hearts and no more rejection. I'll be welcomed with open arms and will be surrounded by my real family. My heavenly family. I'll finally have a home where I belong and where I'm welcome. Oh, what a homecoming that will be!