Made for Eternity

Day 13

Romans 3:26 “to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.”

If God was unjust, He could never truly justify us. If he winked at our sins, or swept them under the rug, or said “that’s not so bad”, or accepted anything less than His Son’s payment of our sin debt on the Cross (note: “anything less” includes any work that we try to do), He would be unjust.

The only way He could declare us righteous was if someone took our penalty.  The only way we could be justified was if justice was served first.

How amazing that this God is just because he did “not spare his own Son” (Romans 8:32)! How amazing that he did so in order to be our justifier!

Day 12

Pastor shared this tonight. It’s quite convicting:

Oh, the bitter pain and sorrow
That a time could ever be,
When I proudly said to Jesus,
“All of self, and none of Thee.”

Yet He found me; I beheld Him
Bleeding on the accursed tree,
And my wistful heart said faintly,
“Some of self, and some of Thee.”

Day by day His tender mercy,
Healing, helping, full and free,
Brought me lower while I whispered,
“Less of self, and more of Thee.”

Higher than the highest heaven,
Deeper than the deepest sea,
Lord, Thy love at last has conquered:
“None of self, and all of Thee.”

– T. Monod

Day 11

2 quotes from today’s Telegraph:

“A decree banning women from wearing trousers in Paris is still technically in force, it emerged on Monday, making the laissez-faire French capital theoretically stricter than hardline Sudan in the fashion stakes.”

“As Evelyne Pisier, a law professor . . . points out, given that trousers are compulsory for Parisian policewoman, they are all breaking the law.”

I  also broke the two-hundred year old law in 1999 when I paraded around Paris  . .  . in jeans. Horrors!

Day 10

This is a paraphrase, and I think it exposes well the ridiculousness of militant atheism:

“What an atheist says: ‘Number 1, there’s no God. Number 2, I hate Him.'”

Psalm 14:1, anyone?

Day 9

Exodus 12:12 “For I will pass through the land of Egypt on that night, and will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the LORD.”

I am in awe of this LORD, this One who executes righteous judgment against his enemies, simply by saying it is so. I am thankful he is my God, and I am thankful that I will never face his anger. As much as he is a wrathful God, he is also a loving God who provided the only way to escape eternal condemnation.

For believers in his Son, those fearful words, “I am the LORD” bring a sense of comfort and contentment. He is on our side.

Day 8

“Ye feeble saints, fresh courage take;/Those clouds ye so much dread,/Are big with mercy, and shall break/In blessings on your head.” – W. Cowper

I’m grateful for the blessings of God when things are going well. The very fact that life is so “good” is in itself a blessing. Still, the blessings I treasure most are the ones that fall from those dreaded clouds; the ones God gives even during those times when life goes “wrong”, sometimes horribly wrong.

Those glimpses of grace in the midst of darkness let me know that my Father is there. He has not left me. His mercy will always reach beyond my trial and soothe my needy heart.

Day 7

“With God’s peace in my heart, and his Word in my hand,
I travel in haste through an enemy’s land;
The road may be rough, but it cannot be long,
So I’ll journey with hope and a conquering song.”

– adapted from H.T. Lyte,  “My Rest is in Heaven”

Day 6

Hearing Screenings in Grad School Clinic:

One audiometer. One clinician. One kid. Nearly sound-proof room.

Hearing Screenings in the Real World:

One audiometer. One SLP. Four K5 kids. Not anywhere near a sound-proof room. Gym class across the hall. Parent talking on cell phone in hall. Toilet flushing next door. 3 kids not being currently screened whispering and scootching around in chairs. Cars flying past outside. Swine-fluey kid in corner of office (which is shared with the nurse) hacking up a lung and retching into trash can.

I love my job. And I’m not being even a little facetious.

Onward.

Faith: absolute conviction of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).

Without my absolute conviction that I am going to spend eternity with my Savior, I honestly don’t know how I’d get up in the morning. He is my hope for the future and my strength for today.

Day 5

“the state or condition of being deceived; misapprehension.” (definition courtesy of dictionary.com)

I realized recently that in order to be “disillusioned”, one must first be “illusioned”. I find myself frequently disillusioned, and in many ways, this troubles me.

When I am disillusioned with our broken government, it is because I have been deceived into thinking it can fix our problems. When I am disillusioned with a friend who has let me down, it is because I have deceived myself into thinking humans are capable of always holding up their end of the bargain. When I am disillusioned by a spiritual leader’s failure, it’s because I’ve forgotten that they are sinners too. When I am disillusioned with myself, it is because I have misapprehended how evil my heart is. Hint: “it’s desperately wicked”  (Jeremiah 17:9).

I want to walk in the light of God’s Word, in his truth, seeing things as they are, seeing me as I am, and most importantly, seeing God as he is. I want to stop being illusioned.

Day 4

A lot of people don’t like treadmills, maybe because they make them feel like “lab rats”. I like the machines, and I’ve only felt like a lab rat once. (That was a few weeks ago during a stress test in which I was walking on the treadmill while hooked up to several machines and surrounded by 6 medical professionals of varying rank and job description who kept asking me questions – “how are you feeling?” “any pain?” – and continuously made incomprehensible remarks about my ever-changing vital signs which were being displayed on multiple monitors. See? Very lab-ratish.)

The reason I like treading on a fast moving strip of rubber-like material is that all the pertinent info is right there in front of me. Speed, mileage, time. It’s right there in all it’s digital brilliance, staring back at my sweaty face. For someone who never ventured beyond pre-calc and took one math course in 7+ years of post-high school studies, I sure do love the numbers. I love time and distance. I love racing myself even on days I say I’ll take it easy.

So, onward, in more ways than one.

Leviticus is a bloody, bloody book. Reading the precise instructions about burnt offerings makes me so very thankful that I am not under law but under grace (Romans 6:14). Thank you, Jesus, that your blood was sufficient to cleanse me completely, not just cover my sin temporarily.

Day 3 (of my 30th year on earth)

. . . with pizza. It’s the bump just behind your top front teeth.  That’s why I call it the “pizza burn bump” when I’m trying to get my kids to say t,d, l, etc. I’d credit the person I first heard that phrase from if I could remember, but I can’t.

I enjoy putting things into “kid-friendly” language. I especially enjoy stealing phrases from colleagues who are good at it.

Onward.

Memory verse for GIBS:

Exodus 15:11 “Who is like you, O LORD, among the gods? Who is like you, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?”

Answer: None one of them.

 

 

14 years ago, I was a sophomore in high school. In my English class, we were assigned to write an essay on what age we would like to live to, and why. After some consideration, I put down “30”. My reasoning was pretty simple. By 30, I hoped to be finished with school, have a job, maybe have a family. I would have experienced “the big things” in life. Today, I turned 29, entering my thirtieth year of life.

30 is a lot closer now, but my heart feels pretty much the same. I have lived a good life, in so many many ways. I have lived on both sides of the world. I grew up an Easterner (and finally got to see my Phillies win the World Series last year), but now am becoming a Midwest girl. I have laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe, and cried so hard I wanted to stop breathing altogether, just so the pain would go away. I have seen someone die before my eyes; I watched a man be born again in a downtown Chicago soup kitchen. I was a student, now I have sweet and rascally students of my own. I have friends who have blurred the lines and are now more in the family category. My days are sometimes mundane, sometimes hectic, sometimes unpredictable. My 29 years have not been all that unusual. I’m an average girl. I have done nothing extraordinary, never had 15 minutes of fame.

And I am content with my life.

If God should take me home soon, I am content. If God sees fit that I should live to 102, I am content.I can rest in His wisdom. I can cherish my life, knowing who I am, why I am here, and where I am going when I die. I am a child of the One True God. I am here to shine a light on Him. Because Jesus Christ died for me and rose again, and I trusted in Him, I’m going to live eternally in Heaven.

Thank you, Lord, for 29 years. Thank you for whatever I have left. May I glorify you.

Pretty incredible, that, considering I deserve to go just as much as everyone else on earth.

Pastor preached on the destiny of the lost  on Wednesday night. Despite the urgency and somberness of the topic, it wasn’t a “fire and brimstone” rant. It was a simple, matter-of-fact, serious look at hell. That was enough.

Hell needs no embellishment. The message based on passage after passage of Scripture gripped me. I left with a deep thankfulness in my heart that by God’s grace I am saved from such a tormented eternity. I also left with a deep sadness for the billions who are going there because they have rejected the good news that Jesus Christ paid for all their sins and rose again so that they could live eternally with God, rather than be separated from him in the Lake of Fire.

The Bible tells us that he who believes that message “is not condemned.” (John 3:18)

Jesus did the work. I believed in him. I’m not going to hell. You don’t have to go either; the choice is yours.

See the “good news” link up top for more info.

I haven’t posted in a while because I was in PA visiting my mom and 4 of my 6 siblings. Mom came back to the States to take Noah to college. If you live an ocean away from each other, you tend to take advantage of being on the same continent. It was a good time, even if it was (as always) too short. But that’s the way this life is.

Tomorrow I head to TN for my 10 year reunion. I’m loving this summer!

Onward.

“Men go abroad to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.” – Augustine

Take a minute to wonder  today.

Psalm 139:14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Like Adam and Eve, I often hide from God when I’ve sinned. I’ll do anything to avoid “eye contact” with my Father. I’ll read, I’ll do email, I’ll listen to the radio, I’ll do anything but turn to him. It’s so true, that verse in Isaiah 59: “but your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God”. Even as his child, I feel the wall I’ve put up as surely as if I’d built it from cinder blocks with my hands. It’s hard and harsh and cold. I hate it.

I know I’ve received eternal forgiveness for my sins, but daily I need parental forgiveness. I need to confess (say the same thing about) my sin, and have my heart cleansed by my Daddy.

I feel out of place, coming before the Holy One dirty with sin. My heart is burdened, my head is down, my guilt causes me to slink and shuffle in the shadows. Amazingly, I don’t have to do that.

Hebrews 4:16 “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

As God’s child, there’s no need for cowering in the shadows at the edge of the room. I can come before him with confidence. “Confidence”  does not mean being cavalier and careless about sin. It simply means I can be fully assured of God’s grace, mercy, and free forgiveness whenever I am in a “time of need”.

And that time comes around an awful lot.

I was thinking more about the lack of grace in the world, and how deeply the concept of “undeserved favor” goes against our human nature. How many times have I heard “there’s no such thing as a free lunch”? We are all skeptical of something we didn’t earn, something we don’t deserve. “Where’s the catch?” we ask.

We don’t naturally “get” grace.

People who hear the good news of free salvation by grace through faith for the first time are waiting for the catch. “Nah,” they say, shaking their heads, “I’ve still gotta do something. I’ve gotta at least pray a prayer, or get baptized, or go to church, or be kind to my neighbor. There’s no such thing as free lunch, you know.”

Free lunch? Maybe not. Free salvation? Yes, it’s true.

Others try to sneak works in the back door. “Well, it’s free, but if I go out and murder someone, then I’ll lose it.”  Sounds to me like you’re just trying to pay your way after the fact. You can’t.  Jesus already paid for every sin (and all of ours were future at that point). He paid for the pack of gum you stole in 1st grade. And if, God forbid, you take a life some time in the future, he paid for that sin, too.

“For the wages of sin is death” Romans 6:23a

Jesus paid that wage when he died in our place. As he hung on the cross, among his last words were:

It is finished [paid in full]” John 19:30

Grace is not deserved and, amazingly, it’s free because of the cross. The payment has been made.

Believe it, and you will know grace in a graceless world.

The longer I live, the more experiences I have with “gracelessness”. The world is ugly, mean, blunt, self-serving and unforgiving, which makes sense as it pretty much reflects our collective sin natures.

That’s what’s so amazing about God’s grace. Whenever I encounter the world’s lack of undeserved favor, I need to be reminded how graced I am. Every second I spend out of hell “is gravy”, as I heard a preacher say recently. I have absolutely nothing to complain about. My eternal destiny is heaven, my time on earth is a vapor (and often a beautiful vapor at that).

I love those moments when I see his grace in my circumstances and through other believers. I’m unspeakably grateful that it is in spite of ugly, mean, self-serving, unforgiving me.

We are smack dab in the middle of VBS here in southeastern Wisconsin, and it’s such a joy to share the Good News with these young’uns. Each day, we have a “thought for the day”. Yesterday’s was: “Believing Christ died, that’s history; believing Christ died for me that’s salvation!”

There are few sweeter things to hear from the mouth of an exuberant 4-year-old.

Last night a bunch of us went down in the “frigid” air (60s! in July) by the Lake to hand out tracts and strike up spiritual conversations with Festa Italiana goers.

A big part of me would have liked to just stay home and hide under the covers rather than stick my neck out for Jesus Christ, but there are people out there on their way to hell. When I think about it in light of eternity, what’s a little derisive laughter and sneering? Millions have been killed for their testimony.

Anyway, one of my favorite ways to start a conversation is to ask, “Can I offer you some good news about how you can know for sure where you are going when you die?” based on  1 John 5:13: “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life.” (emphasis mine) No religion in the world can offer such certainty. God’s Word can guarantee heaven because salvation has NOTHING to do with our works, but is based entirely on the finished work of Jesus Christ, God incarnate, who died the death we deserve and rose again.

The idea of “knowing for sure” catches some people’s attention. If they are not believers in Jesus, they don’t have their eternal destiny settled in their mind or in reality. They are dangling on a precipice over eternal damnation.

They must hear. They must believe. Then they will know they have everlasting life.

God planned out my family in a very unique way. There are six of us kids, and at some point each year, we are 10 years apart from one of our siblings. There’s Luke (30) and Emily (20). Then me (28) and Noah (18 next month), and Pete (25) and Daniel (15).

Pretty cool, huh?

Another ten year tradition continues this weekend. On 17 July 1999, I graduated from Rift Valley Academy. Tomorrow, Noah will walk across the stage at Centennial Hall and receive his diploma. I am so proud of my little brother (who towers over me).

It’s never easy living an ocean and continent away from home. It’s days like these that are the hardest.