Made for Eternity

Day 43

That’s the comment I overheard when I passed two girls last night leaving the library. I didn’t hear anymore of their conversation – you know how you catch bits ‘n’ pieces of others lives as you pass by – but that was a very interesting bit ‘n’ piece my ears grabbed as I walked home.

In my mind, I thought, Me too. I get in this tunnel vision rut, or I’m like a Kentucky Derby horse with blinders securely fastened. I hardly see what’s going on in the world besides what takes place in my own little corner of Milwaukee, and more specifically, in my own little life. This feels especially true during these busy summer weeks – it’s get up, go to clinic, go to work, go home, go to bed, repeat. I’ll get irritated when someone interrupts my rut, ahem, my routine. My routine. As in, it’s all about me. Hoo boy.

Last night, I was graciously and gently convicted of my self-absorption. And the Holy Spirit used a “random” comment by a stranger to do it. 

Philippians 2:3 “Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves.”

Yes, regard one another. Thanks for the reminder, Lord.

Day 44

This is my 100th blog entry, so I thought it appropriate to share some thoughts I wrote . . . on writing.

Word Wrestling – 16 September 06

        Writing is not easy for me. It’s hard work. More often than not, I find the process frustrating.  It usually goes something like this: I’ll wake up in the middle of the night with a half-baked idea – it’s getting crusty around the edges, but it’s still a little raw inside. There’s a great (even brilliant, I think) first line and a snazzy ending. The middle part needs some work, but I fall back asleep certain that everything will be sorted out in my brain by the time I crawl out of bed.

      Of course, it rarely is. In the morning when I sit yawning at my computer, that brilliant first line isn’t quite so shiny, the finale is shabby rather than snazzy, and the muddled middle sits and stares up at me unsympathetically with all the Times New Roman indifference it can muster. I can’t hit the delete key quickly enough. Sometimes, I only type a dozen words before realizing the futility of the effort. Other times I’ll trudge along through a paragraph or two or three, hoping with each keystroke that it’ll somehow get better, that I’ll somehow be able to salvage the mass of banality I’ve created. In either case, the end result is the same: a blank screen.

      Are there people out there for whom writing comes easily? Are there wielders of words whose essays and poems and stories always hit the target, who never face writer’s block or need a thesaurus, whose thoughts spill from mind to pen to paper in an uninterrupted flow of wit and wisdom? Or are they all like me, a word wrestler who goes to battle with grammar and semantics, challenging amorphous thoughts to become coherent and yes, even beautiful, to the world outside my head?

      I often, too often, come out on the losing end of the fight, with the score reading: Pristine Page – 1, So-Called Writer – 0. Yet, in spite of the disappointments, I can’t help myself – I keep coming back for more. Because on those rare occasions when I do emerge victorious, when oft-unsubmissive syllables and sentences stand in perfect order, when words become a backdrop for my ideas and not a distraction from them, I delight in language. I delight in its Creator. I delight in the joys of written communication. I delight in the gift of being able to share thoughts that cause people to ponder, to laugh, or to cry.

      And because there are such delights, I wrestle on.

Day 45

Going to heaven has absolutely nothing to do with one’s lifestyle, character or behavior – ever.

(Query shamelessly stolen from Ian’s facebook profile.)

This question was brought to the forefront of my thinking yesterday when I was reading a Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel opinion column. Steve Paske wrote about how some kids in this city seem unconcerned about committing violent crimes because they believe in God and think that that will get them to heaven in spite of their actions. The author was advocating for more “brimstone” teaching in Milwaukee churches to strike fear into the hearts of the youth. While I’m all for bringing up hell in the context of witnessing – people need to know what they need to be saved from– I find some of Mr. Paske’s premises troubling.  Here’s the link: http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=613596

And a response to a couple of points in the article:

“Perhaps if our city’s preachers took on a more punitive persona, perhaps if city sermons reminded Christians that violent acts will result in a violent afterlife – even if they don’t think that is the case – then perhaps fear of eternal punishment might actually get kids to think twice before they pull the trigger of a gun leaving a 4-year old-girl dead.”

I am one of those who do not think that violent acts of necessity equal a violent afterlife, and I could not stomach listening to a teacher who proclaimed that.

“Perhaps the Christian God is so forgiving that you could kill someone and still stamp your ticket to heaven.”

Yes, sir. He is so forgiving.

You see, we are not saved because we are good. We are not even condemned because we are bad. Our sins truly do make us worthy of hell. But Jesus Christ paid the price for our sins on the cross – all of our sins: past, present, and future. The question that now stands before a sinner (i.e. everyone on this planet) is “What do you think about Jesus Christ?”

John 3:18 “He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.”

So, it is not, “Are you a ‘good enough’ person, or a ‘too bad’ person?” It’s, “Do you believe that the work of Christ alone was sufficient to save you, or are you still trusting your ‘good works'(which according to the Bible are filthy rags before a holy God)?”

Am I defending or condoning the rapes and murders committed by these young people mentioned in Mr. Paske’s article? Absolutely not. Sin is always anathema. God hates sin. I am saddened by foolish and wicked acts such as the murder of 4-year-old Jasmine. Am I saying the ones who commit these crimes are going to heaven? I don’t know. I don’t know their hearts or beliefs. There’s a lot of unsaved monotheists running around today. And their actions certainly do not line up with the Christ-like life that should be the believer’s aim; in fact they are the opposite. Based on these people’s deeds, I would seriously doubt their claim to salvation. But based on Scripture, I cannot say that these sinners, whose criminal acts at times defy belief, are not indeed saved.

Because those sins were paid for on the cross, and if they trusted ALONE in that work of God’s Son, their eternal destiny is settled. Heaven is a gift for sinners; it it is not a reward for good people.

Romans 6:23 “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Oh, and by the way, the answer to the question at the top is true.

Day 46

“See ya next month!”

(This entry was scheduled for yesterday, but was preempted by the speling be.)

Since the calendar rolled over to June 2007, I was able to say that to my sister last night. For my family, it’s no longer see you the year after next after next, or next year, or later on this year sometime. It is, in fact, see you next month. After 34 months apart, that sounds awfully good.

I have refrained from bringing up The Reunion too often (aside from the countdown at the top of each entry) in order to keep from boring my faithful readers. But this milestone is a bigger deal than usual, so I took the liberty of mentioning it. Thanks for understanding.

Onward.

Free salvation now He offers/Take His gift, O hear His plea/On the bloody cross behold Him/Join His shout of victory. “It is finished,” loud He cried/O what love- for me He died/In my stead He bled on Calvary/Once for all Christ rescued me. – Ron Hamilton

In what other circumstance would a dying man’s final cries be a true shout of victory? On the cross, our sin-debt had been paid completely; the Son of God had done all the work. Satan’s head was crushed.

And so forevermore, there is victory in Jesus.

Day 47

Yesterday was the National Spelling Bee finals. Kids from across North America, all amazing spellers, competed. The winning word in 2007?

“Serrefine”. That’s a small forceps for clamping a blood vessel. I’m definitely going to try to incorporate this new vocab word into my conversation.

Also yesterday, Mrs. Clinton campaigned for the presidency:

Guess at least one event organizer wouldn’t have won the spelling bee, eh? The timing of the error is pricelessly ironic, and hearkens back to Dan Quayle’s “potatoe”.

Speaking of ironic spelling errors, one of my undergraduate linguistics textbooks was entitled Analyzing the Worlds’s Languages. Perhaps a cursory analysis of English possessives would have been helpful as well.

Onward.

Proverbs 1:32b “the complacency of fools will destroy them.”

The American Heritage Dictionary defines complacency as a “feeling of contentment or self-satisfaction, especially when coupled with an unawareness of danger, trouble, or controversy”.

How terrifyingly apt a term for our world today, especially here in America. People in this country are self-confident, self-trusting, self-absorbed. They are settled and happy in the life they’ve created, in the empty dreams they are chasing. They live purposely ignorant of the fact that their lives are fragile, that they are separated from hell by a heartbeat.

When it comes to eternity, these ones in such a dire situation are indeed complacent. And if they continue in that path, it will destroy them.

Believers are the ambassadors. We are the warners. We are the ones Christ has called to shake the lost from their complacency, to show them from God’s Word that they are hopeless, helpless, hell-bound sinners in need of the salvation provided through faith alone in Jesus, the unique God-Man, who died the death we all deserve and rose again.

We dare not be complacent ourselves.

Day 48

They say that the smile is the most contagious expression. I think “they” should add that it can also be a rather awkward expression . . .

I smile a lot. I can’t help it. I’ll be trekking along down Wisconsin Ave and I’ll remember something funny, which will inevitably make me smile. It seems that most people don’t smile randomly while they walk. I do (smile, that is).

This cheerful tendency has some unfortunate side effects.

Take today, for instance. I was minding my own business, traipsing along and smiling to myself about this, that, or the other thing, which was all well and good ’til I accidentally made eye contact with a young man. Oops. Making eye contact. Smiling. Not a good combination. Of course he smiled back, with one of those do-I-know-you-and-and-why-are-you-grinning-at-me smiles. His puzzled expression only added to the ridiculousness of the situation. Of course, I started to laugh, so I did the only thing I could do.

I kept walking. Quickly. And I did not look back.

That weird encounter is similar to one we’ve probably all had: you know, the instance where you think someone is waving at you, so you wave back (sometimes quite enthusiastically). Mid-wave, you suddenly realize that they weren’t, in fact, waving at you; they were actually waving at the guy sitting 2 rows behind you. You always feel a little awkward after that. At least I do.

Onward.

Proverbs 15:13 A joyful heart makes a cheerful face, But when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.

Proverbs 17:22 A joyful heart is good medicine, But a broken spirit dries up the bones.

These seemed to be appropriate verses for today’s entry (minus the whole “awkward” element, of course).

Day 49

“Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there.” – Thomas Berger

One of the many things that is so enjoyable about language is its infinite possibility. The combination of words and thoughts we can create is staggeringly vast. Each day we utter sentences that have never been uttered before.

The fluorescent green-striped and pink polka-dotted mollycoddle of a collie marched his way to Mars, skipped over Saturn, and tumbled head over tail back to Earth, where he landed in a swimming pool inhabited by shiny black opossums who bore a strange resemblance to Davy Crockett.

I can 100% guarantee you that that crazy, rather nonsensical sentence has never been written before in the history of mankind. I wrote it because it wasn’t there. Ever. But now it is.

Write a brand-new sentence yourself and feel free to post your creative writings in the comments section. I’m sure I’ll get a kick out of them.

Onward.

I couldn’t sleep this morning early – I wasn’t fully awake, but I was having some vague uneasiness about the impending day, so I got up and turned on some lights and opened my Bible. I read the first 4 chapters or so of Ephesians before sleep started to reclaim my brain. I find it amazing how the Word of God can slice through even my grogginess and comfort and renew my mind.

Some things I was reminded of in the pre-dawn:

I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenlies in Christ.

I was dead in trespasses and sins, but God (two of the most beautiful words in the entire Bible) who is rich in mercy made me alive by his grace.

He is my peace.

And I can know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge.

Day 50

I’m exhausted. Plumb tuckered out. My brain feels like it’s gone through the wringer.

Why, you may ask?

I’ve just spent a good hour or so trying to decipher the Milwaukee County Transit System Bus Schedule. It’s like trying to figure out clues on a treasure map, but the clues are in a different language. It’s tough enough trying to find the correct routes using the magic multi-colored decoder ring, but trying to figure out where you need to be when is even more fun.

“Well I could catch the bus at 6:53 at N. 12th, but then I’d be cutting it close for my 7:10 transfer at Oklahoma. Still, if I take the 6:35 bus, I’ll be waiting for 15 minutes at Oklahoma in the elements, whatever they may be. So, do I want to be risking missing the second bus or do I want to bide my time in torrential rain, hurricane force winds, and temperatures that may well dip into a range comfortable only to polar bears? Hmmm.”

Being the overly cautious individual that I am, I’d probably pick the latter.

Onward.

Yesterday I read an article by a pastor in northern Minnesota on how to respond to unexpected trials. I can’t quote him exactly, but he said something along the lines of “To expect not to have hardship and trouble in this like is to have the wrong expectation.”

Jesus said it like this in John 16:33 –  “In this world you will have trouble.”

I’m so glad he added, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Day 51

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

– Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Day 52

This morning on the way to church, my friend Bill and I saw a doe and her tiny fawn. Very nearly unfortunately, they were standing like statues in a patch of shade in the middle of the road. But we stopped in time and all stared at each other for a while. The baby was beautiful – obviously quite brand-new with those little white spots on his back and legs so spindly he could hardly stand up on them. His mama eventually took off and he tried to follow, toddling along on someone’s front yard, then cowering behind a tree as we pulled up alongside.

I think Bill got a semi-decent picture of the pair – I’ll post it if and when I can. It was a sweet way to start the day.

And the day has turned out to be quite lovely, by the way. Coming home after lunch, we took a detour down by the lake (Michigan, fyi). The lakefront was a panoply of activity -kites flying, sailboats sailing, and people playing frisbee, rollerblading, and picnicking against the backdrop of the blue sky, the bluer water. I held my arm out the car window into the cool breeze and warm sunlight, as if by reaching out so far, I could somehow capture it all and take it home to save for a gray sky day.

I love days like today.

Onward.

Romans 1:16 “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes”

That’s the 3-5 year-old Sunday School verse this month. Today, several of them recited it with minimal assistance. There’s something pretty special about a three year old reciting a verse about the salvation and God’s power. Do they understand it at this point? Not totally. Still, it’s in their head. It’s God’s Word.

And God’s Word does not return empty (Isaiah 55:11).

Day 53

I have this thing for sad music. I like it when a song brings tears to my eyes. It’s not that way with movies so much. With those, I want my happy ending. Yet I’m content to have a song that leaves me contemplative and a little wistful.

On my computer, I have a whole playlist of songs that are melancholy – songs about saying goodbye, losing a friend, taking things for granted, hard times, homesickness. Some of them I love because of a single line, others I enjoy from beginning to end.

Maybe I’m a little odd in that way, but I think I’ve figured out a couple of reasons why these types of songs get to me. Fist off, they remind me of heaven.

What? Mournful music reminds me of heaven?

Yeah. When I hear James Taylor singing Stephen Foster’s “Hard Times Come Again No More”, I think about that time when all hard times will end. When Bebo Norman grieves the death of a friend in “Rita”, he says, “The finest moment no man can measure, is to look your Savior in the eye.”  Mary Fahl’s “Going Home” (from the Civil War film Gods and Generals) reminds me that I am going home.

Secondly, we live in a world that’s overwhelmed by bitter, wracked by pain. Music that addresses that is honest music. Not that music that sings of beauty and happiness is not honest – I love joyous music. Gladness is also a part of this earthly life. But songs that look at our struggle and aching (without going overboard into despair) seem to touch me more. 

Because out of the melancholy, I take comfort in the settled assurance that I am going home. After all, I am saved by his grace. I am made for eternity.

Day 54

Right before I closed down the info desk last night at 10 PM Central Time, I took a quick glance over at home. This was the webcam capture at 5:59 AM East Africa Time:

You can just start to make out the images of the mountains in the gray morning, and as I walked home in the moist windswept darkness, I began to imagine the stirrings of my family as their night yielded to the rising sun. It’s imaginations such as those that make me feel closer to the ones I love.

So while they began a day, mine ended with a sleepy smile, and the whisper of “Good morning, good night.”

Day 55

Did you know that cicadas taste like shrimp? Nor did I, until I heard a entomologist (insect guy) on the radio describing how he likes to grill them. Good to know, considering Brood XIII of this delicacy is soon going to emerge from the ground by the billions and start overrunning (overflying?) my part of the country, as they do every 17 years or so.

If we could get them and the flying ants from Kenya together, we could have a good old fashioned Insect Fry. Now that would be tasty.

Onward.

1 John 5:9-13 If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater; for the testimony of God is this, that He has testified concerning His Son. ¹⁰ The one who believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself; the one who does not believe God has made Him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has given concerning His Son. ¹¹ And the testimony is this, that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. ¹² He who has the Son has the life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have the life. ¹³ These things I have written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.

That pretty much says it all.

Do you have the Son? Do you have eternal life? If you will simply trust in His work for you, you can KNOW for certain that you are going to Heaven.

Do you know?

Day 56

This is “Pearls Before Swine” from earlier this week – reminds me of the good ol’ days back in Kenya. A little.

Being a cartoonist has got to be a fun gig. I’d take up a comic strip if I was a funny, over-the-top-creative person. Alas, I am not.

Onward.

Speaking of chameleons, believers shouldn’t be one of those:

Romans 12:2 “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Day 57

When my family came back to the States for furlough in 2002 and I flew back to PA for a visit, I figured it would be a good time to catch up on the fulfillment of my sister-ly duties, which obviously included imparting my vast stores of wisdom to my younger siblings.

A great opportunity presented itself when we came back from the library one afternoon with our laundry basket full of books, and I settled down on the couch with then 8-year-old Daniel to puruse a children’s book on ancient Greece. As we were reading about various historical figures, Pythagoras came up.

“He was an important mathematician,” I told my brother, “He discovered an important equation called the Pythagorean theorem.” I was about to continue my explanation, but before I could –

“Oh, yeah, ” Daniel said, very matter-of-factly, “a² + b² = c².”

Good gravy. I think I was still at the this-is-how-you-color-inside-the-lines stage when I was in second grade.

Proverbs 2:6 “For the LORD gives wisdom; From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.”

Day 58

Growing up, there’d be those times when my mother would ask me, “Did you leave your brain under the bed?” Because  it sure seemed like I had. At least then I would have had an excuse for the mindless things I did. (And still do. Sigh.)

For instance: talking. Too much. Without thinking. Lately it’s been occurring to me that I’m not as keen on this speech apparatus thing as I once was. After I’ve put my foot in my mouth (again), I can see that it’s way more trouble than it’s worth. The mouth, I mean. Not the foot. I still have a pretty good relationship with both my feet as I wrote about in the 29 March entry.

Yes, I know my aversion to the whole speech deal is a strange thing to hear from someone who intends to make a living helping people speak better, but seriously. James was not kidding when he said that “no one can tame the tongue” (James 3:8). It’s a scary thing.

The reason that I’m thinking these thoughts is that this morning Emily (Emily-my-friend as opposed to Emily-my-sister) and I read Proverbs 21 (i.e. the “Proverb of the Day”). Here’s verse 23:”He who guards his mouth and his tongue, guards his soul from troubles.” I really need the Lord’s wisdom to keep my mouth shut when I should.

And his courage to speak up when it’s hard.

Day 59

Oh, no. Not for me. For about 2000 other MU students. For me, that day is still 364 days away, and . . . oh, there’s another good countdown. P’raps I shall take that into account when this one draws to a close.

Anyway, today got me to thinking about the ultimate Graduation Day, the Day which is drawing ever closer but for which there can be no countdown, ’cause I don’t know when it is. Might be today. Might be 70 years from now (though I hope not). What I do know is that it’s the Day when I leave this earth and “graduate” to Home. Heaven.

I can’t wait.

What, do I have some kind of morbid death wish? No way! If you know me at all, or if you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ll know how much joy and delight I take in life – in its big events, in its smallest details. I love life. Life is good. Truly.

Heaven’s better. Infinitely so. Because that’s where my Savior is.

A friend once said to me that for the believer, dying is just going to sleep and waking up with Jesus by your side. Is there a more beautiful thought in the universe?

If you’ve trusted Jesus Christ alone for salvation, none can be sweeter.

Day 60

Preface to today’s entry: I wasn’t going to write the following story. I didn’t want my readers to pity me or think this is a backdoor way of trying to get money. It’s not. But it is a way I see God working, so I’m going to share. Okay. Disclaimer aside. Read on.

It’s not unusual for people to have breakfast with the morning paper, but today, breakfast came with the morning paper.

As is my custom on Saturday morning, I threw on some clothes and shuffled outside to get the Journal-Sentinel. When I picked it up, I saw that the bag it came in was one big advertisement for General Mills’ “Whole-Grain” cereals. I got inside, flipped the bag over and found, to my great delight, three mini boxes of cereal.

I say to my great delight, because I’m a graduate student. I am not wealthy, to understate my financial condition. I live pretty much paycheck to paycheck and things can get a little tight. Or a lot tight.

So, even though I do have food in the fridge, I still laughed and gave thanks when I saw those Cheerios and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It was more than just cereal to me. It was the Lord nudging my heart, reminding me that he is my provider. Yes, I should work hard to earn money – that’s Biblical. But at the end of the day (or in this case, the beginning), it is my God who is the One who provides for me, sometimes in very unusual ways.

Like the time he sent breakfast with the morning paper.

Day 61

One of the jobs I currently do is probably the most mind-numbing job I’ve had – and like any semi-skilled hourly-wage worker, I’ve had several of those. In this one, I go through Wisconsin charitable foundations’ tax forms (990s) and extract important information, like the type and amount of the grants they have given out, their directors’ names, etc. Doing this for several hours a day can make you a little crazy. But even this oft monotonous work is not without its’ humorous moments.

For instance, last year, a co-worker found a grant – actually a scholarship – given to a young man. There was his name, and next to it was the amount of the scholarship – $0. That’s what prompted my friend to make the above comment.

Another foundation’s giving for the year consisted, in its entirety, of a lovely grant to the March of Dimes . . . in the amount of $1. Yes, sometimes the generosity can be just plain overwhelming.

Today I uncovered a grant of $13,800 ear-marked for, and I quote, “Combustion of biogas from food residuals”. Hmmm.

Onward.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ⁵ For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.

The God of ALL comfort. He comforts us in ALL our affictions. I like that.

And then he can use us to comfort others in ANY affiction, even if we’ve never gone through that particular trial, because it is truly with HIS overarching, all-encompassing comfort.

I like that too.

Day 62

Last week, I had a craving for kettle corn, so I went to the store and bought these single-serve packets of popcorn for 27 cents apiece. Splashed on the front of the package was the following: “Reduced cooking time!” (And in smaller letters, it mumbled something about compared with a regular-sized bag of popcorn.)

Please. That’s advertising gimmick-ry at its worst. Really? You mean to tell me that cooking a smaller amount of food takes less time? Quite amazing.

I wonder if people actually fall for it. I suppose they do. We aren’t as bright as we sometimes think we are.

Onward. 

A wonderful song I learned in Duluth (author unknown):

Rest, the Lord is near,Refuse to fear
Enjoy His love.
Trust. His mighty power
Fills every hour
Of all your days.

There is no need for needless worry,
With such a Savior,
You have no cause to ever doubt. His perfect Word
Still reassures in any trial.

Rest, the Lord is near
Lift up your prayers
for He is strong.
Trust. He’ll bring relief
and perfect peace
will calm your mind.

Call Him if you grow frightened
Call Him.
With loving care,
He’ll lift the burden and you’ll
Rest, the Lord is near
Refuse to fear
Enjoy His love.